All the Time in the World
by iamanundeadmonkey
Summary: Sequel to Seven Days is a Week.JE Follow Jack, Elizabeth, and a surprising new addition to the crew to save Will as they battle inner demons, real demons, and horrors at World's End.
1. Crabs

A/N: The sequel is here! By the way, if you haven't read Seven Days is a Week and you want to read this, you might want to read that first, otherwise you won't get some parts of the story. Okay, POVs are going to be a lot different in this story. There will be three different ones, all in order: there will be the POV in this chapter first (no I'm not telling you who it is, it would ruin it),then Elizabeth, then Jack, who will be in first person because I feel like it. Well, read on, leave a kind review at the end!

DISCLAIMER: JACK SPARROW IS MINE! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!! ((lawyer raises large stick)) me: ((sigh)) Fine. I don't own it. Yet.

Chapter One

The middle of a desert, I found, was an incredibly hot place. I remembered one time, when - never mind. No I didn't. But now, sitting in the middle of one such place and shifting uncomfortably whenever my bare skin touched the coarse white sand, I found it even hotter than I had ever felt before. If I had ever felt. Too hot to wear my boots, but too hot not to. I settled for simply sitting, resting my feet on my boots to keep them from getting any more scorched than they already were. Though I didn't suppose it really mattered; after the first few days, I didn't bother shooing off the little crabs that made my feet bleed when they snapped at them, and had to content myself with wincing when the crabs hit a spot that had already been cut.

Occasionally I would clean the cuts out with a piece of my shirt. Why I did it was beyond me. If I had already died, how could I die again? Not possible. No, not probable, I reminded myself. I smiled faintly, then snarled at a particularly miniscule crab as it sidled towards my hand. It scuttled off to join its little friends.

Sighing, I kicked out at the little animals lazily. They retreated for a moment and then returned for more. The miniscule crab started towards my hand again. I waited, waited, and slammed my fist down on its shell with a nasty crackle. The crab gave a feeble wriggle and fell still. I plucked it from the sand with my thumb and forefinger, studying it without much interest. Then I prodded it with my tongue; a taste not unlike something rotten and slimy coated the roof of my mouth.

I crushed another one and ground it into the sand with one scorched heel. Then I asked myself the question I had been trying to get the answer to since I had been here: _Who _am _I?_

_Ha ha. Good question. Glad you thought to ask._

"Well, so am I. Be nice to get an answer, though. No, no, you needn't be bothered. Just leave me here to ponder my own identity.

"I would tell you if I actually knew, but I don't.

"All right. If you insist.

"And I do."

This was what I had been reduced to. Arguing with myself about the same thing over and over again, always coming to the same conclusion. I sighed again. _Why am I _here?

A/N: There you have it. The first chapter. Leave a review; even constructive criticism is appreciated. As long as it is constructive. And I have enabled anonymous reviews, so now you have NO excuse! Haha! And yes, I know it was short, the chapters in this POV will usually be shorter.


	2. And You Smell

A/N: This chapter is definitely longer than the last one. Trust me. By pages. At least in my notebook. Enjoy, and leave a review when you're done!

DISCLAIMER: Duh.

Chapter 2

Jack cowered and whimpered piteously from his position on the floor. "I won't do it," he insisted. "Nothing you say can make me."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and pulled him to his feet. "It won't hurt you. I promise."

"Yes, it will! I can't remember the last time I did that!"

"All the worse. Just _do_ it!"

"No."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I _said_ so. And you smell."

"I'm a pirate. Pirates are supposed to smell. It's what makes them so fearsome."

"I don't find you fearsome in the slightest. I actually find you quite cuddly."

Jack curled his lip. "Cuddly?"

Elizabeth smirked. "I seem to have struck a nerve. Yes, cuddly."

"I'm a bloody _pirate_ for Pete's sake. Pirates are-"

"-_extremely _cuddly."

"Far from it."

Elizabeth swatted Jack's arm playfully. "Go on. It's lot like you have anything else to do," she said.

Jack heaved a sigh of resignation. "Fine," he grumbled. "But you have to help me put all the beads back in when I'm done."

"With pleasure," Elizabeth said triumphantly. She swiped the keys to the hold from the table and left the cabin.

Outside, she hefted a lantern from its hook, lit it, and carefully opened the door to the crew's cabin. Loud snores, grunts, lip-smackings and rustlings greeted her. Wrinkling her nose slightly, Elizabeth made her way down the two flights of stairs and came to a stop at the door. She fumbled with the keys for a moment and, finding the right one, stuck it into its respective hole and twisted it a few times. The door swung open smoothly and sut with a soft click behind her.

Hanging the ring of keys on an obtrusive nail, Elizabeth knelt beside her trunk and flipped up its latch. Laying on top of all her neatly folded shirts and breeches was what she had come for: a white comb made of whalebone. She grabbed it, slammed the trunk closed, snatched he keys up with one finger, and exited, locking the door behind her.

Elizabeth blew out the lantern's small flame when she was outside again and knocked on the door to Jack's cabin. "Jack? Are you decent?" she called.

"What? Oh. Yep."

Elizabeth stepped in to find a dripping and shirtless Jack belting his cutlass around his waist. His dreadlocks were gone to be replaced by a mane of long, straight hair that now only had the bone in it. Elizabeth used her comb to attack the unruly mess. Jack chuckled. "I wish you luck with that, luv," he said. "Hold on, let me get my shirt. _Ouch._ What are you doing, trying to murder me? Will - you - stop - for - one - aah- second? _Thank_ you. Yah…" Jack winced as Elizabeth yanked the comb through a snarl and pulled his shirt on. "There. Contin-_yow!"_ he yelped.

"It's just so _thick_," Elizabeth grunted, working carefully at a particularly large knot. "Why don't we sit…this could take a while…" While Elizabeth tugged at the tangles in his hair ( much to his chagrin), Jack dabbed a thick line of kohl around his eyes.

"I'm not bloody good at this…it keeps getting in my eye. Stupid…bloody…_pain…_be _careful_…"

It took Elizabeth two hours to successfully be able to make the comb glide smoothly though Jack's hair, by which time said pirate was sitting with his arms crossed and his lower lip pouting. It took another fifteen minutes to go through every bead and bit of rag that had been in his hair to make sure that it was absolutely necessary that he keep every scrap that was there, which, of course, it was. She wove each bead and bit of cloth into the right place, constantly corrected by Jack when she put one wrong.

"No, that goes _here_, below that bit. That gets tied _there_. No, no, no, tie the hair around it, not it around the hair. You've got it. No, not _there_, right here. That's it."

Finally, she set about making a large braid at the back of his head. It was tied off with a dark bit of ribbon. All the while Jack fingered the bone in his hair, seeming to be deep in thought. "What are you thinking of?" Elizabeth asked curiously, giving the knot in the bandanna a final tug.

"Who, me? Oh. Nothing. Merely enjoying the fact that you touched my neck once in a while," Jack replied cheekily.

"Really?" Elizabeth said, smiling at him. She ran her fingertips lightly over the pirate's collar bone. "Like that?"

"No. Like…this," Jack said, trailing his fingers slowly down her neck.

"Oh, I see-" Jack cut her off with a kiss. She pulled away and laid her head on his chest, his hair tickling her nose and making her smile. "Will you tell me a story?" she said.

"What one?"

Elizabeth touched the red bandanna. "That one."

Jack smirked. "Oh, that's gotten me into a lot of trouble, that has. I got it from when I impersonated that cleric. It was his sash. I had no idea what to do with it at the time, so I tied it around my head. All the monks thought I had gone mad. So when they saw my real clothes underneath the robe, they took it and I ran The sash was still around my head, so I kept it as a little memento."

"Hmm. What about that one?" Elizabeth said, touching the bone.

"Pass."

"Pass? Why?"

"Some stories are better left untold," Jack said mysteriously. "Pick something else.

"Fine. That."

Jack took the round piece of silver from her fingers, smiling again. "Ah, yes. Fond memories…I took this from the figurehead of Beckett's old ship just before I sunk it."

"You sunk it?"

"Yep. And enjoyed it thoroughly."

Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. "I'll never understand pirates and what makes them happy," she mused.

"Why not?" Jack said. "You should, seeing as you are one yourself."

"A pirate? Or one of the things tat makes pirates happy?"

"Both, of course."

Elizabeth started to inquire about the bone again, but Jack silenced her. "Not now, luv. We should get some sleep. We'll be up early tomorrow to leave. Now, whose turn is it for the bed? I can't remember."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "Yours," she answered. "The sun's only just set."

"Like I said, we're off early tomorrow. I need my beauty sleep," Jack grinned, giving her a kiss on the fore head. Still suspicious, Elizabeth climbed out of his lap and heaved herself up into the hammock. "You're getting better at that," he commented. "No more - whoops, I spoke too soon. Come on, up you get. Bloody hell, get off my shoulders. That hurt."

Elizabeth started to laugh despite the new bruise on her arm.

"Not funny. You could've had my head off there," Jack said. He rubbed his shoulder and, taking a look at Elizabeth's expression, started laughing too. "It's still not funny! You're just making a funny face."

"You were making a funny face too," Elizabeth said defensively. "Have I no right to laugh?"

"Nobody laughs at me! I'm Captain Jack bloody Sparrow! Er, except you, of course, luv. On special occasions. If I mean to be funny. But that's when everyone can laugh. What purpose would be served in telling people not to laugh when only you can? It wouldn't be fair, luv. And it would be confusing. A lot like I'm being right now, because I can't even remember what the bloody heck I was talking about, and so I will go to sleep."

"Do it quickly, before you hurt yourself," she said.

"Funny," Jack returned. "Very funny." He let out a little huff as he settled into the bed. "It feels weird actually having my hair combed."

"I can imagine," Elizabeth said sarcastically. "How long has it actually been?"

"Long enough for me not to care who saw me with dreadlocks."

"Quite a while, then?"

"Yep. Go to sleep."

"'Night."

Jack grunted in reply and turned over. Elizabeth smiled and shook her head again before realizing how tired she actually was and drifting off.


	3. I Have a WHAT?

A/N: The third chapter…big surprise. Woot!

DISCLAIMER: If you haven't figured this part out by now, you have serious mental issues and need to schedule an appointment with a chiropractor ASAP.

Chapter 3

I leaned over the edge of the hammock and gave Elizabeth a small nudge. "Time you woke up, luv," I told her. She moaned and turned over on her stomach, nearly hitting me with a hand. "Come on, up if you want to help," I reiterated, walking out of the cabin to avoid serious injury.

As I stepped out on deck, a loud _thunk_ told me that she had decided to grace the floor with her presence. "Jack, wait up!" came a groggy voice.

"You've got to _keep _up on a ship, luv," I called over my shoulder.

_Thump._

"And try sitting while putting on your boots if you want to achieve it with any grace whatsoever."

I flung open the door to the crew's cabin. "On deck, you dogs! Make ready to leave port!" I bellowed. "I want movement, and I want it now! No dilly-dallying, or it'll be a keelhauling for you!"

The twenty or so men got out of their hammocks and began trying to balance on one foot to put boots on. This part I always found amusing: how many different ways there were to get out of a hammock. Some fell out, some rolled neatly over and sat on the side, some attempted to leap up and collapsed in a heap on the floor, some woke with a start and tangled themselves in the cloth, which soon untangled itself and deposited its occupant on the floor with a nasty whip, some rolled over, muttering something about pickled tomatoes, and were dumped unceremoniously on the floor by their crewmates. I could have gone on forever, but decided instead to go out on deck and help speed the preparations along by starting it myself.

Elizabeth met me outside and I wrapped my arm around her waist. "Good morning. Finally awake, are we? You missed the crew getting up."

"Why would I want to see that?" Elizabeth wrinkled her nose.

"You have no idea how many different ways there are to get out of a hammock," I replied. "It's one of the only reasons I enjoy being the first one up in the morning."

Elizabeth laughed and yawned at the same time. "That funny?"

"Well, I can tell you that whatever that noise was closely rivaled it."

"Not so funny, then," she said haughtily.

"Hysterical," I told her, chuckling and stoking her hair. The crew came clumping out of their cabin and began scaling masts, checking various knots, and giving the thumbs up to a dockhand below. The ropes were untied and tossed up into the sailors' waiting hands.

I tested the wind. Perfect. And the tides were in the perfect position as well. One couldn't ask for better conditions.

The _Black Pearl_ pulled away from the dock and out of the harbor, gathering speed as she went, Gibbs at the wheel.

Tortuga had melted into the horizon before the sun could even think of coming up. I patted my ship proudly and went about checking the work of the crew, leaving Elizabeth at the stern to watch the water.

"Anamaria!" I exclaimed. "Coming with me on a voyage without slapping me? What a pleasure!"

Anamaria game me an amused look. "So she got ye, did she?"

"Elizabeth?"

"Aye."

"I wouldn't say as much as she got me as I got her."

"Ah, but she must have gotten you as well if you're with her."

"Maybe a lot." I gave Elizabeth a fond look. "She's been learning a lot about the ship."

"Impressive, Jack. The governor's daughter," Anamaria said. "How long d'you think she'll last?"

"Excuse me?" I asked. "Are you implying that I'm going to throw her away?"

"Come on. How many other women have you done it to?"

She had a fair point there, but I wasn't letting her see that. "Elizabeth isn't _like_ other women, Anamaria. What makes you so interested in my love life all of a sudden?" I questioned, changing tack smoothly.

"You think I'm interested in you?" Anamaria laughed. "Not happening. I just want to make sure you won't hurt her."

"Never."

"Good." Anamaria went back to the knot she was tying.

I moved on to a boy of about twelve with dark eyes and a shock of black hair. "Wrap the rope around once instead of twice. It's easier to finish the knot off, and it's just as sturdy," I said.

"Aye, Captain," the boy said. I was pretty sure his name was David.

"It's David, isn't it?" I asked.

"Aye, sir."

"What's your surname?"

"Don't have one, sir."

"Ah. And what brings you on this merry voyage?"

"A few reasons, sir," the boy said earnestly. "One, I've heard of all you've done, and I wanted to meet you in person. I'm also here because I want the experience. And I'm looking for my father."

"That's interesting," I said, being honest for once. "What was his name?"

"Adam. Adam Smith. My mother told me that he was a pirate, and he left her for someone else. I'm not sure if I should believe her, though, she was delirious at the time. You wouldn't happen to know him, would you?" David added hopefully.

I racked my brains. "Sorry, kid. Never 'eard of 'im."

"That's all right."

"Wait. You said his name was Smith? Why don't you take that name?"

"Smith? Are you kidding? That's about the most common surname you can have. No thank you."

I grinned. "You think like me."

Elizabeth came up beside me. "Who's this?"

"David," I told her. _Adam Smith._ I knew I'd heard the name before. I just couldn't recall where. Perhaps a spat over his girlfriend in the tavern? Nah. That wasn't it. Part of my crew once, maybe? No. That wasn't it, either. Ah, well. It would come to me later. "You know, David, I think I remember the name Adam Smith from somewhere. I don't knew exactly where, but I'll try to remember," I informed him. "I'll tell you if I do."

"Thanks, sir," David said.

"Oh, and only call me 'sir' if it's completely necessary. It peeves me to no end," I said.

"Aye, Captain. I'll be sure to remember," David assured me.

"Good. I'll see you at dinner," I said.

"At dinner, then," David said.

Elizabeth and I walked off. "Adam Smith?" she asked.

"His father's name," I explained, jerking my head back at the boy.

"It wasn't _you_, was it?" Elizabeth teased.

"Do I look like dam Smith to you? Really. Captain Adam Smith, most notorious pirate to sail the seven seas. No. Doesn't fit."

"Not at all. You don't look like an Adam Smith."

"Nope. I look like a Captain Jack Sparrow."

"I would certainly _hope_ so."

"As would I." I shuddered. "I have the wheel, Mr. Gibbs. Thank you." When Gibbs was doing something else, I drew Elizabeth over and placed her hands firmly on the wheel.

"No, I can't steer a ship," she laughed, trying to hand the wheel back.

"Of course you can," I said, wrapping her fingers back around it.

"You're not serious?" she said nervously.

"Yes, I'm serious. Keep us straight while I get some rum." I left her standing there awkwardly. I took my time selecting a bottle from the rack and going back upstairs. By the time I had reached the helm again, Elizabeth seemed more confident and at ease. "See, it's not so bad, now, is it?" I asked.

_Adam Smith._ Something clicked into place. It had been years and years ago, and I had given a woman that name so as not to get in trouble with her boyfriend. Which meant that I had a son. A _son._ On my ship. I had a _son._ I barely contained myself from swearing out loud. _Why_ did I have to find out that I had a son _now?_

"Look, I've, er, got to show David something about one of his knots. He's, er, doing it wrong. Be back in a minute, holler at Gibbs if you need help," I said quickly. I was in such a hurry to get away that I left my rum. I had a _son…_

"David, come here, I've remembered who Adam Smith wa-is," I said quietly, taking the kid - _my _kid - aside.

"You have?" he said excitedly.

"Keep it down!" I hissed urgently. "Look, David, there's something you're got to understand before I tell you this, all right? This is between you and I. Strictly you and I, savvy? You can't even tell Elizabeth. Her." I pointed discreetly to where Elizabeth stood.

"I swear it," David said solemnly. I let out a breath of relief.

"Good. Now, Adam Smith isn't your father's _real_ name, as it were. He gave it to your mother so that she wouldn't get him in trouble with her boyfriend and get himself beaten up. His real name is…ah…Jasparroh." I said the name quickly and slurred it slightly.

"Jasper Munroe?" David said. "That's an odd name."

"No, no, that's not it. It's…ah, bloody hell…er, well, me."

David stared at me blankly. "You?"

"Ah…yes. Now you see why we have to keep this confidential? I don't want this getting out unless I say it, savvy? All right?"

"I will be. But…you? You're my dad? No joke?"

"No, no joke. I don't joke about things like that. Well, maybe sometimes, but not now. Oh, and try to make it look like you're doing one of your knots a little differently, but don't. I told Elizabeth I was coming down here to advise you on one of you knots. And please don't be angry," I added.

"I'm not," David said tonelessly. "Just surprised."

"Right. Well. Seeing as that's over with, I think I'll, er, go now," I said awkwardly.

"Yeah," David said. "See you at dinner."

"See you at dinner," I echoed. I stood still a moment longer, watching my son walk away from me, and I cold see some of myself in him. And I felt a little proud. With a small smile, I made my way back up to Elizabeth.

A/N: Ah…I know nothing about knots…I just did that so that…well, you know…something to do…haha. Hope you liked it…LEAVE A REVIEW!!!…Please?


	4. There Are No Survivors

A/N: Yo ho, me hearties! Ahem…anyway. POVs will be rotating like they do in the 1st 3 chappies, savvy? So this is another 1 like the 1st chapter…it is somewhat interesting. Leave a review when you're done. Please? Anonymous reviews ARE ALLOWED so you have no excuse to not leave one! Yeah, that's right, I'm talking to you! Ahem. I am extremely hyper right now, so please excuse me. ((cough))

Chapter 4 

I had been walking for about a day now, I figured. I couldn't really tell, because I didn't know whether the sun had moved or not. Now it seemed to laugh at me, its blazing hotness making my dark, sweaty hair retain its heat and stick unpleasantly to my neck.

I didn't know why I was walking. It wasn't like I would get anywhere; see anything new save for a crab with an extra spot on its shell to make it stand out from the rest.

Just as suddenly as I had started, I stopped walking. Instead, I took stock of the things on my person, to see if I would be able to make a shelter from them, even a shabby one. _A vest. A belt. A sword. What? A sword? Since when do I have a sword? Anyway. A vest, a belt, a sword, a dagger, two boots, a pair of pants, a shirt. _Hmm. Not much. Maybe if I stood the boots up and draped the vest over them? That might work. It would cool off a bet of sand, too.

But what about the crabs? How would I keep them out?

I wouldn't.

But that meant I would need to wear the boots if I didn't want them to tear my feet off completely. If only I had a pair of bloody sticks…

Wait. What if I stuck both feet in one boot and used that to keep the crabs off? That could work. _Or_ I could stick the sword and the sheath in the ground and then put the vest over _that_. Then I could war both boots. Aha! That's what I would do.

I unbuckled the sword from around my waist and pulled it from its sheath. I turned it upside-down, brought it down into the ground, and dropped it, swearing and shaking my hand vigorously. The ground was hard. _Extremely_ hard.

With the heel of my boot, I put a little dip into the sand and tried again. This time the tip of the sword lodged itself in the ground and halted abruptly. Ah, well. It was a start. I pulled off one of my boots and, balancing precariously on one foot, used it to pound the sword down to the desired height. I did the same with the sheath and then slid the boot gratefully back onto my somewhat singed foot.

I swayed backwards.

_Kneeling on the deck of a ship, fear clouding my senses and anger making them sharp and clear. I can hear step-_thunk,_ step-_thunk,_ step-_thunk_ through the buzzing in my ears…the step of the dreaded Davy Jones._

I blinked a few times. I had been getting tiny flashes of dark places for some time now, but this had been different. This time I had been able to feel the soggy, cracked deck on my knees, the horrible had on my shoulder, the water in my eyes that made them sting. I had been able to smell the salt coming off the sea and the fear rising in waves from the other sailors.

Was _that_ how I had died, by the hand of Davy Jones's crew? No…that hadn't been it. I felt sure of that. But I also felt sure that I remembered the words, "There are no survivors" coming in a strange accent that I couldn't quite place.

I shrugged uncomfortably and went about taking the vest off.

Something tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped. Behind me was a small girl dressed in a flowing white robe, underneath which were loose white pants and shirt. She had white-blond hair and extremely light blue eyes that seemed to pierce straight through my own.

"Excuse me, sir," she said politely. "What is your name?"

"That is a very good question, young lady," I said kindly. "Bit I'm not sure. Might I inquire as to your own?"

"Hmm. Call me Janelle," the girl said.

"That's a nice name," I said.

Janelle gave me a strange smile. "Thank you. So is yours."

"I haven't told you mine," I said.

"Yes. But I know what it is."

"What is it?" I asked. Janelle smiled again, but stayed silent. "Why won't you tell me?"

"Because you must find out by yourself. I will be able to help you along the way, but nothing more."

"Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful."

"Would you rather me leave you?"

"No, actually."

"All right. Would you mind me calling you Bill? I can't just call you 'hey you' all the time."

"No, I don't think 'hey you' would be quite appropriate. I don't mind at all."

A/N: Yes, I know it was short, but the chapters in this POV will usually be shorter than the chapters in Jack or Elizabeth's POV. It's hard to make these long. Harder than you think…:-) Leave me some love!


	5. She Found Out

A/N: Well, here we are, chapter 5. Sit back, relax, read, and enjoy…and review as well. And by the way…sorry about the wait…I haven't had a lot of time, and my internet isn't working, so I can't get on to ff at the moment.

DISCLAIMER: ((sigh)) ((lawyers poke the author with a stick)) all right, all right…((mutters something)) lawyers: …

Me: Fine. Potcisnotminewasnotmineneverwillbemine there.

Lawyers: Good.

Me: They're not mine…yet.

Chapter 5

"Look, I've, er, got to show David something with one of his knots. He's, er, doing it wrong. Be back in a minute, holler at Gibbs if you need help," Jack said. He hurried down the stairs and took David aside, murmuring something to him. David looked shocked. Then Jack said something else. David smiled at him, said something back, and went off to do something else.

Elizabeth watched this carefully, hoping Jack wasn't being too hard on the kid. He was only about twelve, after all.

"Well, 'e said he'd seen what he was doing wrong, so all's well that ends well," Jack said, taking up his rum.

"You weren't mean to him, were you? He looked pretty shocked," Elizabeth said.

"No, no, of course not." Jack waved his hand carelessly and had a swig of rum. "He's my crew, of course I was nice. Don't want him leading a mutiny, now, do we?" Elizabeth looked back over at David.

"He doesn't look capable of leading a mutiny anyway," she commented. "He's twelve, for heaven's sake."

"No, he doesn't, does he?" Jack said distractedly.

Elizabeth gave him a suspicious glare out of the corner of her eye. "What are you hiding now, Jack?" she asked, smiling.

"Who, me? Nothing, nothing at all."

"I'm sure,"

"Of course I'm not hiding anything, what is there to hide?"

"You remembered who Adam Smith was didn't you?"

Jack nearly choked on his rum. "Er, what? No. No, not yet. I'm sure it'll -"

Something fell into place in Elizabeth's head. "Yes, you did! _You_ were Adam Smith, weren't you? It was a fake name that you gave some poor woman _who was already wed!"_

Jack gave her a guilty look. "Pretty much, yeah. Oh, don't go getting all angry at me, luv, it won't do any good, the deed's been done and that's that. Nothing we can do about it now."

"Dad, am I causing you trouble?" David asked.

"_No_, David, you're not, but this isn't the best…_oohh_…" Jack shook his fist angrily at the sky. "Listen, luv, this was twelve bloody years ago. It's _over_. All right?"

"Jack, you could have at least _told_ me instead of trying to hide it, I wouldn't have been angry!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "I _know_ it was twelve years ago, I _know_ it's over, so what's the big fuss about?"

"I didn't know you wouldn't have been angry, that's the point! That's why I didn't tell you!"

She sighed and looked down kindly at David. "David, would you mind going to do something else while we talk?"

David looked down. "I'm sorry I got you in trouble, Dad."

It sounded strange to hear somebody calling Jack "Dad". Apparently Jack was thinking along the same lines as Elizabeth. "_Please_ don't call me that…just say Jack or something like that. Go, er…see if Gibbs needs any help. Go on," he prompted. "And you didn't get me in trouble, I got meself into this mess, so don't go feeling all bad, savvy?" Jack turned back to Elizabeth.

She laughed. "You're not 'in trouble', Jack. I'm not angry with you. It would be like you being angry with me for being with Will at one point."

A corner of his mouth twitched up slightly and he rested his hand on the wheel.

"That it would," he agreed. "You know, I need a little time to think over this having-a-son business, I'll take the wheel."

"All right." Elizabeth handed it over and left, spotting Anamaria. "Do you have a moment?" she asked hopefully.

"Aye, I suppose I could spare a few," Anamaria said, slipping a rope into place. "What is it ye need?"

"Well, obviously you know why we're going where we're going, because Will is gone. But I'm worried about Jack…he's taking it really hard. He thinks it's his fault, and he keeps beating himself up over it, no matter what I do. There's nothing left _to_ do."

"Maybe there's something he knows that you don't. I've known Jack a long time, Elizabeth. He's a capacious man. He hides a lot of things away from everybody. From what he's told me, which isn't a whole lot, he had a pretty bad childhood. You wouldn't know it, though, would you? Not unless he's actually said so."

"I know, but I feel so bad…I don't know what to do."

"Let him deal with it on his own," Anamaria advised. "If he needed help, it would show. Or he would say something to you, seeing as you're the closest one to him."

"But I wish I could _do _something," Elizabeth sighed. Anamaria shook her head.

"Just let 'im be. I've seen him get through worse on his own."

The whole ship jolted, sending Elizabeth to the ground. Anamaria clutched the rail for support as they came to a sudden halt. Jack came clattering down to the deck and helped Elizabeth up. He looked over the railing. "Oh, hell," he muttered. Elizabeth looked up fearfully.

"What is it?"

"It's the kraken."

A/N: Mwahahahaha! Ahem. Anyhoo. Hope you had fun with this chapter…I know it's kinda short, but the next one is longer, if it makes you feel any better. If you have any questions…or ideas…or would just like to leave a kind comment…all are welcome. In other words…review ye scurvy dogs! Barbossa: Arr! Me: …


	6. Real Fights and Playfights

A/N: Yes, I suck at writing kraken scenes…yes, this one is way too short…no, I do not care. So if you think it sucks, please don't flame, it doesn't feel very good. At least try to enjoy the rest of the chapter. I am so sorry this took so long…was having major writer's block…for that I should put up another chapter today. Maybe I will… :)

DISCLAIMER: No. Nothing is mine. …Unfortunately.

Chapter 6 

"TO THE CANNONS!" I bellowed. "EXTRAS, GRAB ANYTHING YOU CAN FIND TO USE AS A WEAPON! WAIT TO FIRE FOR MY SIGNAL! Elizabeth-"

"I am not hiding in the cabin!" Elizabeth protested.

"Lizzie. Darling. I merely ask that you humor me this once. Go into the cabin and stay there until I tell you you can come out."

"No!"

"Fine. If you do not get into that bloody cabin this instant, I will lock you in there myself."

"I am _not_-"

"You asked for it." I picked her up and carried her, kicking and screaming insults, into the cabin. I used a length of rope to tie her to the table. "Now _stay_," I growled, shutting the door and locking it.

The kraken's tentacles appeared over the railing.

"HOLD FOR MY SIGNAL!" I roared. "Hold. Hold. _Hold._"

Tentacles crept stealthily over the deck, rocking the ship. A few men yelled out in terror. "Hold!" I repeated. A huge, gaping maw started to become visible over the rail.

"FIRE!"

The catastrophe of sound that followed was deafening. All of the cannons on the starboard side fire; the kraken loosed a roar loud enough to wake the dead; men yelled and dove to the side as it started to sway; a huge, slapping crack sounded as the tentacles hit the deck; somehow I managed to make myself heard above the grating, banging symphony.

"SHOOT IT! SHOOT IT!"

Suddenly, I spotted Elizabeth putting a rifle to her shoulder, aiming, and pulling the trigger. The kraken roared again. Its tentacle whipped out and grabbed her around the waist. I sprinted to her, unsheathing my cutlass with a savage bellow.

Elizabeth screamed and cut at the thrashing tentacle with her nails. I threw myself at it, latching on and holding for dear life while hacking furiously. With one final chop, I severed the tentacle. Elizabeth fell, peeling it off herself. The part still attached to its owner threw me to the deck, and I skidded across. I picked myself up and pulled Elizabeth to her feet, a little more roughly than I had intended.

"Must I use a bloody _chain? What were you thinking? _You nearly got us both bloody – _David_!" Swearing violently, I took hold of David's arm and pulled him from the kraken's grasp. He fell limply into me, dripping slime. As I watched, the world seemed to stop. Not a single noise reached my ears but the silence of the boy I was carrying. I was barely aware of Elizabeth's hand on my shoulder, leading me to the cabin.

"Lay him down," she directed quietly. "Jack, lay him down."

"No," I said.

"Jack –"

"No," I repeated, watching David's face intently. I used the sleeve of my coat to wipe away the slime. "The hell he's dead. Twelve-year-olds don't die. Most especially when they're the son of Captain Jack Sparrow."

"I never said he was dead. Just lay him down."

Yeah, well. Dad never said that either. "Look, I don't care if he's bloody decomposing. I'm not laying him down."

"Yes, you will, because he _will_ die if you don't!"

"Don't use that against me!" I snarled.

"Jack."

I looked down. David began to cough, spitting mouthfuls of slime onto the floor. Now slightly uncertain, I held him carefully, as though he were fragile. When he settled down, he looked up at my worried features, a huge grin spreading across his face. "I got eaten by a _kraken_!" David crowed. "A _kraken_! What would mum think of _that_!"

I grinned back at him. "'Ad to take after me in more ways than just looks, eh? Had us scared for a minute there."

"You were eaten _too_?"

"By the very same, maybe a year ago. Not a pleasant experience, I can tell you."

"Jack, we really should be helping," Elizabeth cut in urgently.

"You mean _I_ should be helping. _You_ two are staying here," I said, setting David on his feet. Before either of them could protest, I strode out of the cabin and locked the door.

The side of the ship that held the kraken's weight was tipping dangerously low. The creature was thrashing about wildly, sweeping men off their feet. It seemed to be attempting to dislodge itself from the ship, which it had nearly done. The mouth was now barely visible. "Let it go!" I ordered, stepping back to the other side of the ship. The crew trailed after me as I watched the kraken with an almost stern glare as its final tentacles slithered from the rail and the deck wobbled roughly as it evened itself out.

"Well, gentlemen," I said. "Congratulations. You've just survived an encounter with the kraken." They all gave an awkward, half-hearted laugh.

"Well, go on, you've got a ship to keep moving!" Gibbs shouted. I nodded him to the wheel and went to unlock the cabin.

"I'm going to help the crew!" David yelled immediately, taking off across the deck. I smiled faintly and shook my head as Elizabeth came out, a little more calmly. But only a little.

"Don't you ever do that to me again," she said in a shaky voice.

"Don't you ever do that to _me _again, either," I returned, smiling.

"Have you thought any more about what Tia Dalma said?"

I sighed, my smile fading. "No. I'd rather not."

"We're going to have to sooner or later," she reminded me.

"I know. Just not now." I smoothed down her tangled hair. "Up for a little play fight?"

"Sure." Elizabeth drew her cutlass. I followed suit with what I thought was a gentlemanly bow, though it turned into more of a sweep of my sword and a slight stagger.

"Ladies first," I invited. My invitation was accepted immediately with a sound of metal on metal; the noise shattered the buzzing air cleanly.

Smiling all the while, I led Elizabeth a merry dance around the masts, up and down stairs, even climbing up the rigging a few times to gain higher ground. As we fought, I found myself settling into a rhythm, as I usually did when engaged: step, jab, step, turn, parry, turn again, block, dodge, hop, step, swing. It seemed as though my feet and sword and body all knew what was going to happen next, in the tensing of my opponent's muscles and the flicking of her eyes, and acted upon them before they ever happened.

The time passed; Elizabeth and I fought on, seeming more like dance partners than two pirates practicing swordplay; I finally broke a light sweat. Then I saw what I had been waiting for: the small falter in what must have been her burning arm. I wove a web of steel around the uncertain blade, and it couldn't seem to get out; unless I knocked it away, which I soon did.

"How did you do that…that…the last thing? That was…wow…"

"Practice," I replied. "Lots and lots of practice. Come on, have another try, I'm just barely breaking a sweat."

"Show me how to do what you were doing. I mean, through the whole fight," Elizabeth said, picking up her cutlass.

I thought, trying to think how to word it. "A lot of it's stuff you pick up automatically after a while. Takes you another while to realize you're doing it yourself," I said finally. "I could tell what you were going to do before you did it. You tense, and you look where you're going to attack. You're got to teach yourself not to do that, otherwise the fight will go on forever. I don't know, I'm not a good teacher."

We began to fight again. This time it didn't go on as long; Elizabeth seemed tired from the other, longer one. "That's enough," I said, sitting down cross-legged on the deck.

Elizabeth sat down next to me. "Tell another story."

"What story?"

"First one that comes to mind."

I tapped my chin. "How about if I tell you about my first stay with the people on Isla del Pelegostos? That's a good story."

"All right."

"When I first washed up on their lovely and welcoming shores, I was given a special welcoming: I was knocked over the head with a club and tied to a spit. They all seemed to think I was a god, imprisoned in human flesh. They intended to do me the…ah…_honor_ of releasing me from my fleshy prison…." As I spoke, I beckoned to Elizabeth and began to climb the rigging of the mainmast. We reached the top as I got to the part about the fire being lit beneath me, and I pointed out at the sun, which was setting in a blaze of spectacular orange.

"Imagine that right beneath you. Let me advise you never to go to that island. Though nearly being eaten by cannibals is a wonderful experience, it is not one I would like to happen more than once, but I still had the fortune to happen upon said island once more before ultimately being tricked by the woman I loved and being eaten alive by a kraken." I sighed dramatically. "Such is life," I said. "Such is life."

Elizabeth laughed and put her arm around me. "Easy, darling, don't want to fall," I smirked.

"I never thought I would see the day," she said, "when I would be hugging a pirate on top of a mast in plain view of at least twenty other pirates."

"I never thought I would see the day when I would be hugging anybody on top of a mast in plain view of at least twenty other men, but here we are," I returned. "Funny, our world, isn't it?"

"Indeed," Elizabeth said. I produced a bottle of rum from my coat, offered it to her, and took a swig when she turned it down.

"The rum is not gone," I marveled, "and nor is it burned. It's a miracle. Don't get any ideas."

"Wouldn't dream of it. How long until we arrive?"

"Hmm." I leaned back on the rigging. "If my calculations are correct…I'd estimate about three weeks."

"To an uneventful three weeks, then," Elizabeth said.

"To an uneventful three weeks," I echoed. I took a long drink of rum and offered it once more. This time Elizabeth accepted it immediately.

A/N: Eck. I still don't like the kraken scene that much. Ah well….After the next chapter with our little mystery person (heehee) we'll get to some action. Bit random, but still action. Hope you liked it. Leave me a review, tell me how to write kraken scenes, 'cause I still suck at them, leave a review again… :)


	7. Sand

A/N: Told you I would put up another chapter today. Enjoy. Review. Be happy. Stop reading the author's note and read the chapter. I named the chapters because I was extremely bored….

DISCLAIMER: The usual trash and not funness.

Chapter 7 

I glanced over at Janelle in astonishment. She was curled up comfortably on the sand, sleeping peacefully in the full glare of the sun. How she did it, I had no idea. All I knew was that I had to try. So I rolled over and, using my hands as a pillow, closed my eyes.

I was being tied up on a long spit, carried over a bridge by a bunch of natives.

_A dark-skinned woman's black eyes look into my own. I can't help noticing the leaves stuck in her hair or her rotting teeth as she mouths something. I think it is my name, but I was never good at lip-reading._

"Janelle," I muttered. "Just give me a hint about my real name."

The girl smiled in her sleep "It can be either long or short." Then she drifted off again.

"Riddles," mumbled. "Why riddles?"

Janelle sat up. "Hints can be riddles if riddles can be hints. If hints weren't riddles, what's the point of a hint if it can't be a riddle?"

"What the hell…?"

"Hell it shall be if your name is not."

"Do you take pleasure in my torture?"

"But torture is in you past is it not?"

Finally, I gave up and put my head in my hands. "I give. Tell me the answer to the riddle."

"What's the matter, Bill?" Janelle asked comfortingly, laying a soft hand on my shoulder.

"What's the matter," I echoed calmly. "I'm dead. I don't know how I died. I can't remember anything, not even my own name. _I don't even know where the bloody hell I am._ Is that good? Oh yes, and the one person I meet knows my name, my past, everything about me, and won't even tell them to the person they belong to. _That's_ what's the matter. _Stop looking at me!"_

I couldn't stand the small girl's ice blue gaze boring into me like a drill. I couldn't stand the fact that I couldn't remember anything, and she just _knew_. I couldn't even stand myself, the way I knew almost nothing. As I looked up, the sun blazed into my eyes, making them water. "Stupid bloody sun, it hurts my eyes," I said aloud, for Janelle's benefit.

"Mine too," she said.

"What color are my eyes?" I asked.

"Dark," she replied. "They're pretty."

"Er…thanks," I said awkwardly.

… … …

Oddly enough, that night I developed a high fever. I tossed uncomfortably on the sand, moaning, my forehead bathed in sweat. Every now and again, when I fell still for a while, Janelle would cradle my aching head in her lap, stroking the sweat-soaked hair from my eyes. "Why is this happening?" I would ask once in a while. She would only tell me to hush, that it would pass, and I would obey.

I was cold; mortally cold. I shivered like a leaf in a high mind, a small child in the ocean. Often I wondered if I would freeze to death, but I never did. Often I wondered if I would go mad. Often I wondered if I already was mad. All the wondering made my head hurt. I curled up in the sand and slid it between my knees, shivering uncontrollably against the cold. It felt as though someone had taken a sword, slammed it through my skull, ripped it out, and repeated the process over and over again. Violent shudders rippled down my spine each time the pain renewed itself.

"Bill," Janelle called softly. "Come here."

She took my head in her small hands and laid it once more on her lap. I groaned as silver moonlight pierced through my eyelids, and closed them tighter. "Janelle," I whispered hoarsely. "Does this get any worse?"

"No. This is as bad as it gets. The headache should be gone by tomorrow," Janelle answered. "The fever by the next day."

If they had been open, I would have narrowed my eyes. "How old are you?"

"One hundred and fifty."

A/N: Wow, she's old, isn't she? We will find out why mystery person is all of a sudden sick probably next time there is a chapter in this POV. If not, the one after that. More action next chapter…for now, enjoy this one. Review…pleeaase:) If you get to enjoy the story, I should get to enjoy the reviews and the making of the story…


	8. The Ship With Red Sails

A/N: I'm sorry…I know I say this every time, but I mean it….I thought I was going to put up another chapter before Christmas, but I never got the chance. My apologies. Many thanks to my reviewers last chapter (so far): DrusillaBraun, Albino Coconut23, FaNtAsMaS ChiCa, The-Pirate-Lass, whyistherumgone, missrisa77, and Captain Uschi. You guys are awesome!

Moving on…to some very (seemingly) random action. Enjoy:)

DISCLAIMER: Ahem. You know I don't like to talk about this.

Chapter 8 

Elizabeth soon found out that even one week without event was extremely boring. She began to wish that she and Jack had never made that toast, hanging in the rigging. The most exciting things that happened over the next twelve days were the playfights between Jack and her. It was on the thirteenth day that something happened.

"Captain!" a voice called from the crow's nest. "There's a ship on our tail!"

Jack and Elizabeth exchanged a glance. "Colors?" Jack questioned.

"The Jolly Roger, sir!"

Elizabeth watched him put a spying glass to his eye and gaze at the ship that the lookout had described. The he swore quietly. "Take a look," he said in response to her curious look. Elizabeth took the spying glass and focused on the ship. There didn't seem to be anything all that unusual about it; the sails were blood red, yes, but that was no reason for Jack to swear at it.

"The helm," Jack insisted urgently. "Look at the helm." She obeyed. The person there was awfully familiar…

"No," Elizabeth whispered. "It can't be. No way."

"It is," Jack confirmed. "It's him. Elizabeth, hold us straight for a moment, I'll be right back." He rushed down the stairs and began bellowing orders to the crew.

Elizabeth took the wheel with both hands and then looked back. It wasn't possible. The ship was even closer than before. "Jack!" she screamed. "It's coming closer!"

Jack looked up.

"That bloody ship is fast, we'd better get the cannons ready just in case!" she continued. Jack nodded and turned back to the crew, who were staring at him, wide-eyed. He shouted something about cannons, guns, sails, and anchors, and then hurried back up to the helm. "What are we going to do with David?" Elizabeth asked immediately.

"I've talked to him already. Don't worry about it, he'll be fine. I've got him to work the cannons with a few others. The rest are up here. It'll all work out fine."

"And what if he just wants to talk?" She nodded back at the ship, which was now dangerously close.

"If he did, he'd be flying the white flag. He's not a man to talk if he can just kill. Now I want you to stay here and keep us straight until I give the order to drop anchor. Then you can come down, and find me. I'll tell you what to do."

Leaving her with those words, Jack kissed her and went down to mingle with the crew. Elizabeth watched him go, fearful for his life even more than her own, and was only able to tear her eyes away when she lost him among the men. It seemed he had recruited more than first met the eye; not including those who were below, working with the cannons, there were at least thirty or forty men.

Suddenly, Elizabeth was startled by Jack's powerful call to drop the anchor. She let the wheel go. It began to spin wildly; the ship swung around with a creaking and a splash. Stumbling down the tilting stairs, Elizabeth scanned the crowd frantically, searching for Jack. She finally spotted him standing near the rail, watching the ship with red sails come abreast of them.

"Good," he said when she had wound her way to his side. He handed her a rifle. "Shoot as many of his men as you can. And don't miss."

"What will you be doing?" Elizabeth asked nervously. Jack grinned a feral grin.

"I? I will be meeting with the captain to have a friendly little chat," he replied.

"Oh, be careful!" Elizabeth pleaded. "You know how he is…."

"As a matter of fact, I taught him all he knows. I know his style. Don't worry." He went off into the crowd again, leaving Elizabeth by the rail.

"FIRE!" Gibbs roared. Elizabeth put the gun to her shoulder, trying not to flinch at the cannon fire, and pulled the trigger. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a single figure swinging over to the other ship, long hair flying out behind.

"Jack, be careful," she murmured to herself, shooting again. She watched Jack pull out his sword and engage the man at the helm.

Unable to watch, Elizabeth turned back and shot again. Men all around her were doing the same, though most were shooting without aim, simply firing into the crowd. Slightly desperate, she turned back to see Jack being stuck down. She reloaded, aimed, and blew the large, feathered hat from Barbossa's head. When he turned around to see where his hat had gone, Jack knocked the sword from his hand, kicked it away, and placed the tip of his own sword on Barbossa's collarbone. Elizabeth watched, horrified, as Barbossa threw the blade off and kicked Jack in the shin. Jack fell over in surprise while Barbossa fetched his cutlass from the far side of the deck.

Elizabeth had had enough. Shoving her rifle into the hands of one of the bewildered crewmen, she shouldered her way back up to the helm. She swung over using Jack's grappling hook and drew her cutlass as she hit the deck. Jack, limping, was still making an attempt to hold Barbossa off.

"Barbossa!" Elizabeth said loudly, going over. Both men stopped mid-blow.

"Elizabeth!" Jack exclaimed. "What are you –"

"I'm not going to just stand here and watch you die," Elizabeth told him.

Barbossa remained as calm and irritating as ever. "Miss Swann, how lovely to see ye." He smiled his rotted smile. Elizabeth ignored his comment.

"What do you want?" she said fiercely.

"Merely doing some honest pirating, getting a little revenge along the way. That be what pirates do, lass. Problem?"

"The fact that it's _Jack's_ ship that you're attacking. Now, would you like to surrender, our would you like us to make you surrender?"

"That's my girl," Jack grinned from the sidelines, rubbing his shin tenderly.

"I might put the same question to ye, missy," Barbossa answered, completely ignoring Jack. Jack, however, did not take kindly to being ignored.

"Then we'll be making you surrender? Oh, good. I hoped so. Come, Lizzie, we've better things to be doing." He took Elizabeth by the arm and gestured her onto the rope. Then he pushed off the rail, holding tightly beside her.

There was a loud bang from behind them. Jack flinched and swore loudly, nearly letting go of the rope.

"What was that?" Elizabeth cried.

"That, my dear, was the sound of us getting shot at," Jack said in a strained voice. "Let go." They both landed on the deck in a heap. "Bloody hell," Jack groaned, rolling onto his side.

"Jack, are you all right? What happened?" Elizabeth asked.

"Ah, well, I didn't quite finish. I said, that was the sound of us being shot at and _hit_," Jack said through his teeth, pushing himself to his feet. He swayed precariously, and Elizabeth steadied him by heaving his arm around her neck.

"Come on, we've got to get you to the cabin," she said.

"No, no, I'm fine. Just get a bandage around it for now so it stops bleeding, " Jack said. "Or I'll go off without one," he added when Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest. She relented slightly.

"Fine. Come on so we can get a bandage." She helped him down the stairs and into the cabin, where he took a long, ragged piece of cloth from the table.

"Here," he said. "Use that for now. Just wrap it around nice and tight-like. On my right shoulder." Elizabeth did as he said and then followed him outside.

A brave group of men from Barbossa's ship had decided to come over, including Barbossa himself. Jack instantaneously drew his cutlass and ran through an unfamiliar man who had been grappling with Gibbs. Then he went off on his own.

Elizabeth sighed resignedly and unsheathed her own sword. She was immediately fallen upon by two filthy-looking pirates with ugly sneers and dirt-caked skin. Luckily, they were as stupid as they were dirty, and Elizabeth was able to fight them off easily. Another she knocked over the head with the hilt of her sword when he wasn't looking.

The rest of the battle went by in a blur of whirling steel and bullets; it ended as suddenly as it had started. Barbossa and his crew were tied and shackled to the _Black Pearl_'s mast as the other ship sunk.

"Mr. Gibbs," Jack said wearily. "You take care of them. I want Barbossa in the brig…do as you want with the rest. I need…my cabin." He then stumbled off in the wrong direction. Elizabeth took pity on him and led him the right way.

The rag blinding Jack's shoulder was a bloody mess. It was all Elizabeth could do to not get blood all over her hands as she carefully coaxed the makeshift bandage off, and her fingertips still ended up stained red. She looked at the wound and bit her lip.

"The bullet's still in there…I'm going to have to get it out. This is going to hurt like mad, try not to move." Jack nodded stiffly and clenched his teeth. Wincing apologetically, Elizabeth forced herself to take hold of the lump of metal – Jack gripped the back of a chair tightly, and she could feel his muscles tense – and pull it out quickly. Jack let out a harsh sigh as the blood began to flow freely.

"Better," he murmured. He hissed as Elizabeth began to gently clean it wit a rum-soaked cloth. Only then did she realize how badly his back was cut up. Half the cowards he had fought had probably attacked him from behind rather than facing him head on.

"Put your arms up over you head so I can get this off and take a look at your back," she said, starting to peel the blood-caked shirt away.

"Bugger," Jack muttered, putting his arms up carefully and wincing. Elizabeth tugged the shirt off, wincing herself as she saw the full extent of the cuts. Then she noticed that, written on his back in scars, was the word 'thief'. She traced it softly before turning her attention to the other wounds.

Jack's hand gave a small jerk.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Elizabeth sat vigil beside Jack's bed as the inevitable fever set in. Whenever he stopped tossing, she pressed a cool cloth to his brow in an attempt to calm the raging heat. He would turn away from his, shivering in a cold sweat.

"No…"

Elizabeth was startled from her idle doze. "What?"

"Elizabeth…"

"I'm here."

"No…I won't let them take you…" Jack's breathing was harsh and labored now.

"Jack, wake up, it's only a dream."

He suddenly let out a scream. "NO! I WON'T LET THEM GET YOU! BLOODY COWARDS! ELIZABETH, NO! ELIZABETH!" He sat up, eyes still closed and bleeding their dark sorrow profusely. "Elizabeth…no…what have I done…no…come back…"

"Jack!" Elizabeth cried, but he wouldn't wake.

Jack's face crumpled as he fell back onto the pillows. "I didn't do it, Dad, I swear I didn't." He flinched. "All right! It was for our own good! For you! I didn't want you to die! I did it for you! Please…"

Then he let out a bone-chilling moan. "She's not dead, I tell you. Just sleeping. Only…only resting. NO! SHE'S NOT DEAD, I SAID! _STOP SHRINKING ME! MOTHER_!" he screamed, clutching the pillow.

Eyes filling with tears and afraid, Elizabeth couldn't stand to watch, nor could she stand to turn away. She couldn't stand to see him with all the walls he had so carefully erected torn down, raw emotion laid bare for her to see.

All went quiet. Jack fidgeted restlessly in his sleep, mouthing silently. Elizabeth put the cool cloth shakily to his forehead once more. A whisper escaped his lips. "What?" Elizabeth asked gently, leaning closer to hear.

"Help me," he breathed. "I can't lose him."

"Lose who?" she prompted.

"Lukas. I can't lose him. Help me."

"Who is Lukas?"

"My brother. He's my brother. He's dying…I can't lose him…please no…don't let him die…it's all my fault if he does."

"I'll help you," Elizabeth said quickly. "Tell me what to do."

"A bandage. I need a bandage."

She placed a bandage apprehensively into Jack's hand. "What else?"

"Rum. Wet it with rum."

Elizabeth cursed quietly. There was no rum. "Jack, I don't have any rum. It's all gone."

"Why's the rum gone? I need rum. Get some!" Jack pleaded.

Thinking quickly, Elizabeth used a bit of nearby water to wet the bandage.

Jack dropped it.

"No!" he howled. "Get it! Quick!"

Elizabeth scrambled frantically for the dropped bandage in the faintly flickering candlelight. When she finally came up with it and stuffed it into Jack's hand, he clutched it and pressed it to his forehead, rocking back and forth.

"I'm too late. He's gone…it's my fault he's gone. My brother is gone. My best friend…he's gone."

"I – I'm sorry, Jack," Elizabeth said helplessly. Jack shook his head violently and curled up with his back turned to her, quivering.

"Lukas," he whispered. "Lukas….Why him? Why now?"

"I don't know," Elizabeth murmured. It was then that she noticed him sobbing quietly in his sleep. She put her hand gently on his shoulder and squeezed to let him know she was there. When he didn't respond, she sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled him close to her.

"Why can't I save anyone?" Jack asked in a steady voice. "Why do they all die?"

"They don't all die," Elizabeth reassured him. "I didn't die. David didn't die."

"But my mother died Lukas died….William died. If I'm not careful, you and David will die too. I don't want the two of you to die. You're all I have left…"

Elizabeth had no idea what to do. Only then did she realize that Jack was still in his feverish slumber, that he hadn't woken up once. She shook her own head hard and started talking to him.

"We'll be at World's End in a week, Jack. Isn't that good? You've got to be better by then. When we get Will back, he'll want to see you. I know he will. He missed you when you died. So don't do it again, because you have quite a few people who would miss you now. And you'll have to show us how to find him."

Jack went quiet, and Elizabeth could tell that, even in his sleep, he was smiling.

Even so, the fever had grown worse by the next day, and Jack still hadn't woken up, no matter how Elizabeth talked to him. Finally, she was forced to give her position up to Anamaria so that she could get some sleep.

At midday on the third day, Anamaria was able to report a slight change for the better.

At midday on the fourth day, Jack woke up.


	9. For Rum's Sake

A/N: Wow, already on chapter 9 and (I don't think) we're anywhere near done! All those that read are cool. All those that read AND review are AWESOME! So…big thanks to The-Pirate-Lass, DarkAngelSuicide, missrisa77, DrusillaBraun, and RP, who was anonymous, but still reviewed and is still awesome, who all reviewed chapter 8! If you haven't reviewed yet but are going to, sorry…but ah well. Thanks to you too. (heh. So much for not having a long author's note.)

DISCLAIMER: Um, if you haven't figured this part out by now, go find yourself a psychiatrist. A good one. And I got the how goes it thing from my friend.

Chapter 9 

The blackness that surrounded me finally faded as my eyes flickered open. As my eyesight focused, I could make out Elizabeth dozing in a chair next to the bed. "'Morning!" I said brightly, my voice hoarse in my throat. Elizabeth jumped.

"You're awake," she stated tiredly.

"I hope so. Where're my boots?"

"You won't be needing them any time soon. You're staying in bed," she said.

"How do I stay in bed while talking to Barbossa, who just so happens to be in the brig?" I asked innocently, stifling a yelp of pain as I sat up. "I don't stay in bed. So. My boots. And my sword. _And_ my hat," I added.

Elizabeth seemed to give up, pulling the items from an unknown spot. I slid the boots on and rose painfully to belt on the sword. "I'm talking to Barbossa if anyone happens to ask," I said idly, walking out of the room.

Down in the brig, Barbossa was sitting against a wall, looking bored. He barely looked up as I came stiffly down the stairs. "Jack," he said curtly.

"Hector. What a pleasure," I returned sarcastically. "So how goes it?"

"It'd be going a lot better if yer bloody crew would feed me," Barbossa said coldly.

"They haven't been feeding you?" I asked. "Bugger. Hang on, I'll find something." I made my way up to the galley and took some of the morning's left over chowder for him. "Here," I told him. "Eat it. I haven't poisoned it."

Barbossa gave a dry chuckle and took a spoonful of chowder.

"What point was behind that little unprovoked attack?"

"Ye can't kill a man and have 'im come back happy to see ye, Jack. You of all people should know that."

I quickly refrained from leaning up against the bars behind me. "We were actually friends once, weren't we?" I marveled. "Funny. Remember Captain Ebony?"

"Ah, yes. Fond memories," Barbossa said dryly.

A toneless laugh escaped me. "Saved each others' lives, didn't we?" I said. "We seem to be good at that."

Barbossa grunted, inviting me to go on.

"Well, mate, it seems we're rather even. You've tried to kill me, I've tried to kill you. What say we call truce? Go back to saving each other instead of trying to do each other in? Now, I'm not saying we should go back to being friends, just that we should at least be somewhat friendly. What say you to that?"

"Where're ye going?"

"We are going to save dear William Turner."

"I see." Barbossa looked thoughtful; or at least as thoughtful as he could. "Ye know, Jack, one of yer less stupid ideas. I can see yer logic."

"Do we have an accord?" I pressed, sticking my hand carefully through the bars to avoid irritating my shoulder.

"We have an accord," Barbossa agreed, grasping my hand briefly.

"So no mutiny if I let you out?"

He rolled his eyes at me.

"Just kidding," I amended hastily. "Only kidding."

… … …

"An accord with _him_?" He'll break it first chance he gets!" Elizabeth exclaimed, wetting a cloth.

I winced slightly as she started to clean out the cuts on my back. "No, he won't," I said soothingly. "Trust me. Barbossa guards his honor carefully. He uses loopholes like any other pirate, but he has honor. If he hadn't taken that dress the day he marooned us both, you would have drowned. Take that for an example. He's trustworthy."

"I hope so," Elizabeth said. She traced the word 'thief' on my back. Automatically, I reached back and felt the scar with my fingertips. "Jack, I- I'm really sorry about Lukas," she said. "I never knew you had a brother."

How does she know about that? I've never said anything.

I shrugged. "That was fifteen years ago. I'm over it." Or at least as much as I could be. "How did you know about that?"

"You said something about it in your sleep one night," Elizabeth told me.

I grunted, seemingly uninterested. But what worried me was that I didn't know what else I had unwittingly revealed in my sleep.

… … …

Leaning inconspicuously against a mast, I listened as Elizabeth and Barbossa exchanged banter with their equally sharp tongues.

Barbossa raised an amused eyebrow at one of Elizabeth's comments and hurled back one of his own, at which her jaw fell open furiously. Then he smirked and said something else; her anger seemed to fade, to be replaced by shock and confusion.

She set her jaw again and flicked a retort at him. He laughed and shook his head slightly, quickly throwing back a reply. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and gave Barbossa a punch on the arm. Smirking again, he turned to the railing with his arms folded across his chest.

I pushed off the mast with my shoulder and mounted the stairs to the helm with an awkward gait.

The sun was setting at the bow; I watched it from a sitting position on the rail at the sterm in the reflection bouncing off the dark waves.

"So ye haven't told 'er yet?" said a soft voice beside me.

I turned to look at Barbossa. "What? About what? Oh. No, I haven't."

"Going to?"

I shrugged. "Dunno. Might. Not sure yet."

"So far leaning towards…"

"No."

Barbossa chuckled. "I figured. Typical."

"Typical? Why whatever do you mean?" I asked, giving him a mock-affronted look. "Some things are best left hidden, mate. I'm thinking this is one of them."

"I see," he said. "How did our young Mr. Turner die, then? Something foolishly heroic, I assume?"

"Demon bit 'im," I replied, unwilling to elaborate at the moment. Wait, did I say at the moment? Sorry for the confusion there. I meant unwilling to elaborate period. Most profound apologies for any inconvenience.

Barbossa gave me a searching look, a corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "Poor thing," he said unconvincingly. "Any thought on who's getting him back?" he added innocently.

Without turning my head, I looked over at him. "Why do you ask?" I said evasively.

"Just curious."

In other words, just to torture you, old friend.

"Ah." I studied my fingernails intently. "No."

Barbossa threw me another look, and I had the feeling that he wasn't satisfied. I hated how he could make me so…uncomfortable, for want of a better work.

Leaving him alone, I went off to my cabin, where I found Elizabeth studying the maps. She didn't even look up when I shut the door. "I didn't realize we were so close," she said.

Smirking, I drew up a chair next to her and pulled her in to me. "What, like this?"

She laughed. "I meant close to World's End, but I suppose I can bear this."

"Mmm. I think I can bear it as well," I said, giving her a gold-toothed grin. "Might enjoy it a bit too…"

"Aye," Elizabeth answered slyly.

I raised an eyebrow and looked over. "'Aye'?" I asked. "Apparently you've been talking with Gibbs too much."

"Maybe."

"To put it in dear old Norrie's words: 'Oh, _dear._'"

This was such a good imitation of Norrington's voice that Elizabeth went into a fit of giggles. I took this opportunity to go on.

"If you start talking like Gibbs, I'm not letting you hang around with that lot anymore. If you did start talking like that, you'd be a disgrace to pirates, and I'd have to disown you."

"If I started talking like Gibbs, I'd have to disown myself," Elizabeth replied.

I snorted. "That's not very nice."

"No, but it's true."

"You've never spoken truer, luv," I grinned, moving my chair smoothly closer so that the two made something of a bench. "You're a bloody thief, ye know that?"

"And what, pry tell, do you mean by that?" Elizabeth questioned. I moved closer still.

"I'll let you figure that out, shall I?" I said quietly.

Elizabeth looked up through half-lidded eyes. "Oh really? And how might I do that?"

"I wonder," I mumbled, smiling at her. "The proper instruction seems to have escaped me. Perhaps you could remind me?"

"I would imagine it went something like this," she said, drawing me in and kissing me. As we broke apart, I smiled again.

"That seems to be in order."

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed.

"How long has it been since we did that?"

"Too long," she said, laying her head on my chest.

"Much too long," I murmured. I put my arm around her just as a knock sounded at the door. "Never a quiet bloody moment," I growled good-naturedly. "What?"

The door opened to reveal Anamaria with her hand on David's shoulder. "He wanted to see you because we wouldn't let him in before you had woken up," she said in explanation.

"Ah. Well, come on, come in," I said, gesturing to David. He quickly left Anamaria, who smiled and shut the door behind him.

"Before you woke up, Anamaria told me you might die!" David blurted out.

I sighed. "Anamaria forgot one very important thing," I said seriously. David echoed my serious look, but I couldn't help cracking a grin. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Captain Jack Sparrow doesn't die. Unless, of course, his dolly belle chains him to a mast but regrets it so much she goes to World's End to get 'im back…"

I winced as Elizabeth punched me in the arm. "What? I told the truth this time! For rum's sake-"

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "For rum's sake?"

"Yes, for rum's sake, Gibbs taught it to me and I though it had pretty much the same meaning as 'for heaven's sake.' As I was saying, whenever I lie, you get mad, so I try telling the truth and you get mad! What do you want me to do?"

At this point, David started to laugh. "For rum's sake!" he snorted. Elizabeth joined him.

"Jack, you probably made that up yourself, you liar!" she exclaimed.

"All right, you caught me on that one. But I still think it has the same meaning as 'for heaven's sake'," I said defensively. I suddenly understood why David and Elizabeth were laughing and joined in as well.

'For rum's sake' was probably the stupidest expression I had ever come up with.

A/N: Here you go, the next chapter! Hope you enjoyed it! And, erm…((looks extremely embarrassed)) can someone tell me what fluff is exactly? I'm still slightly new to this…

Anyway, review and the next chapter will be up quicker! And you'll get a cookie:)


	10. Names

A/N: Wow, lots of reviews! That makes me so happy:D Thanks to The-Pirate-Lass, DarkAngelSuicide, missrisa77, Beautiful x lie, DrusillaBraun, Captain Uschi, whyistherumgone, howlongmustiwait, rockangels16, and SparrowsWenchxo for your wonderful reviews (and telling me what fluff is, for those of you who did :) ) So anyway enjoy the new chappie, leave some kindly reviews…:) I apologize for the somewhat shortness of this particular chapter, but I have somewhat run out of inspiration for these POVs (for the moment. I have evil plans for later. Well, you know what I mean.).

DISCLAIMER: The usual nasty, hateful thing that comes after DISCLAIMER: The usual….anyway. Ahem.

Chapter 10 

"I am not supposed to be helping you," Janelle said suddenly.

"Then why are you?" I asked.

"I've taken a liking to you," she answered. "You have something to go back to."

We continued to walk, the small girl and I, along the bleached white sand.

"What I want to know," I said, "is what it will take to get you to tell me my name."

"I will tell you your real name…if you can tell me something that I do not know about myself," Janelle said. "No one has yet been able to do it. You find out many things about yourself when you have lived as long as I." She stopped and looked at me seriously. "There is only one thing that I do no know about myself."

"Your mother's name," I said suddenly, not knowing how I knew.

"Yes," Janelle said. "Tell me my mother's name, and I will tell you yours."

"That's impossible."

She gave me a strange look. "I have faith in you."

… … …

I spent a long time sitting on the uncomfortably hot sand and thinking. _Her mother's name? How am I supposed to know that? But then…she seems to think I can find out. So I probably can. I hope. _

_I stared at a man in a white wig. Though uncommonly short, he seemed to dislike me intensely as any other man could. And I seemed to dislike him with an uncommon passion._

_A beautiful woman looked down at me, smiling, and leaned down to kiss my forehead. _

_A second woman, almost more beautiful than the first, smiled at me as well, messy blond hair floating in the breeze. It was all I took in before she drew me into a passionate kiss._

I found myself with a hand lifted to where the second woman's face had been. I quickly dropped it. Somehow I felt that I had loved that second woman with all my heart for a long time.

For a while I thought about her, a faint smile playing about my parched lips. She was radiant, like an angel, but devilishly captivating. But when I thought of her, a slight anger stirred in my chest, a white-hot feeling of betrayal that also accompanied flashes of her kissing another man.

"Bill you're troubled," Janelle stated, startling me from my thoughts.

"I am?" I said stupidly. "Oh. Er, I mean, no, I'm not."

"About the woman, I presume?" she continued, completely ignoring my answer.

"Fine, maybe a little," I admitted grudgingly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You've certainly been thinking about it."

"I'm not one to talk about these things."

"No, you're not. You feel as if people will think you strange if you share your feelings, so you keep them locked away in some dark corner of your soul. I have seen that corner and I know what lays hidden there. I have seen those feelings and thoughts and memories that you keep hidden away from the world."

I stared at the small girl, almost fearful. She could see into my mind, my soul, and there was nothing whatsoever that I could do about it. When I thought about it, the weapons she could use against me were terrifying. "Stop invading my mind," I muttered irritably, staring down at the ground.

"If I hadn't done so in the first place, I would not be able to tell you your name," Janelle said calmly. Once again, I grudgingly admitted that she was right.

"There are dark things hidden in the back of your mind," she said seriously. "Things you try to forget. Things you hide from even those that are close to you." The small girl paused to brush sand from her blindingly white robe. She looked up again, her eyes boring straight through my own. I couldn't seem to tear my gaze away. "You must tell someone, or be haunted by them for the rest of your life."

In frustration, I unsheathed the unfamiliar sword at my side and stabbed it into the ground. "Even if I remembered what they were, there's no one to tell. And I don't have the rest of any life to he haunted by something I don't even bloody remember," I snarled, stabbing viciously at the sand.

"Your friends come for you now," Janelle said. "They come to bring you back to the world of the living. And they bring a surprising companion with them."

I placed the tip of the sword on my forefinger and spun It around a few times. "What friends?" I said moodily. "They must not have made a very good impression, otherwise I would remember them."

"They left a very good impression, in fact, good being they stay in your mind, not necessarily a good thing that made the impression. One or two of them stand far out from the rest in your thoughts."

"And who might they be?"

"In fact," Janelle continued as though she hadn't heard me, "I'm not even sure if they are friends or enemies."

"Which?"

"The two that stand out furthest in your mind. A man and a woman."

"Won't you even tell me their bloody _names?_" I cried exasperatedly.

"I cannot," Janelle said sorrowfully.

"Of course you can!" I screamed, desperate. "You just won't! Of course you won't, you won't even tell me my own name! I hate this, I feel helpless!"

"You can't stand to be helpless, to have to stand by and watch your friends die without being able to do anything. That's why you- "

"ENOUGH! STOP IT!" I bellowed. I slammed the sword into its sheath and blundered off in no particular direction. I didn't know whether Janelle was following me or not.

And to tell the truth, I didn't particularly care at the moment.

A/N: There you have it. Again, I apologize for the shortness. Next chapter is in progress, but I just barely started it, so it is unlikely that I will finish it today. If I do, I will update again (or at least try to, I got 3 new pirate books last night and I am busy reading them. Did any of you know that some Chinese pirates actually disemboweled an officer, soaked his heart in spirits, and ate it?).

**Random Barbossa ramble:** (by the way, I had to put this on here, you don't have to read it if you don't want to) About the honor thing: yes, I do think that Barbossa has honor, strangely enough. Yes, he is a ruthless pirate, but most all pirates are ruthless and isn't this story supposed to be about awesomesaucely cool pirates anyway? Either way, at least he doesn't eat peoples' hearts. My proof on the 'honor thing': If he hadn't taken the dress, Elizabeth would have drowned. At the end of CotBP, he pointed the gun, not at Jack, who was threatening him, not at Will, who was about to break the curse (and sucks anyway, no offense meant to Will fans), but at Elizabeth, who Barbossa knew both Will and (most likely) Jack would protect with their lives. The mutiny…it is most probable (taken from 'That's exactly the attitude that lost you the _Pearl_') that Barbossa truly thought that Jack had either done something wrong or was not commanding enough to captain the _Pearl_, and so took the matter into his own hands. Hence the mutiny. And even though he says 'People are a lot easier to search when they're dead', he negotiates with Jack rather than just having the crew kill him on the spot, as he had originally planned.

End of ramble.

Feel free to leave me some love :)


	11. Thoughts and Cherry Tomatoes

A/N: Wow…I haven't updated in FOREVER! I had to put my cat down last weekend and it was not very pleasant…so sorry people, I will try to make updates more frequent, but the word processor at my dad's house is weird and fanfiction doesn't let it keep the formatting (which I learned the hard way). So I may have to update during the week now and then every other weekend. Anyway, this chapter is probably a heck of a lot sillier than any of the other chapters that are up already. I enjoyed writing it a lot even though I had major writer's block…so enjoy the cherry tomatoes! XD

(So much for a short author's note, eh?)

DISCLAIMER: The usual hateful, nasty crap that I write after the word DISCLAIMER.

Chapter 11 

It was strange. One moment, Jack and Barbossa were archenemies, each trying to be rid of the other. The next, they were swapping stories and drinking rum together like old friends. But then, maybe they were old friends. Elizabeth didn't know much of their past together save for the mutiny. In fact, that was _all_ she knew.

Over the time that Barbossa hat been on the _Black Pearl_, Elizabeth had almost grown to like him, oddly enough. He and Jack had started something of a joint teaching over her lessons with the sword, and they often had to stop for the two to question the other's motives for teaching her something.

Barbossa was sometimes so brutally honest that it was almost funny. ("I miss Will," Elizabeth had sighed. Barbossa had rolled his eyes. "Never liked 'im that much, t' be honest. Little too dramatic. Bit too girly for my likin'.") He had retrieved his hat before his ship had sunk, and was constantly asking Elizabeth if she thought the part of the feather that had been blown away looked obvious, always a sarcastic eyebrow raised. Elizabeth would always reply that it was no more obvious than the feather Jack had cut away, and Barbossa would growl something that sounded like and oath.

Much as she liked him and tried to ignore it, Elizabeth couldn't help thinking back to his words during their first proper conversation. _"You've absolutely no honor, _Mister_ Barbossa," she had said, though she knew he did._

"_If I've none, ye're below my marks, Miss Swann," he had returned. Elizabeth's jaw had dropped._

"_You-"_

_Barbossa had smirked and cut her off. "If ye think _I've_ no honor, ye should talk to Jack."_

_She had stared at him, wide-eyed with shock. Then she had regained her composure. "I'm sure he's more honor than you realize, or could ever hope to have," she had grinned. Barbossa had laughed at that._

"Maybe ye should think of yer own actions before speakin', missy," he had retorted. After receiving a punch on the arm, he had turned to the rail, arms crossed. Elizabeth hadn't been sure whether he was joking about Jack or not.

Jack slid his arm around Elizabeth's waist, and she started. "My tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature informs me that you are, dearie, deep in thought."

"Your tremendous intuitive sense of the 'female creature' seems to be correct quite a lot," Elizabeth said.

"I like to be modest. And what, pray tell, were you deep in thought about?" Jack asked.

"Hmm…why?"

He grinned, gold teeth flashing in the sun. "What else but curiosity, luv?"

Elizabeth smiled and stayed silent, leaning back into his chest.

"Do you _enjoy_ playing hard-to-get?"

"Quite."

"Thinking naughty thoughts you don't wish to share?"

"Jack!"

"Yes, dearie?"

She sighed again, shaking her head. "Is that _all_ you think of?"

"Why, of course not! Lizzie, I am offended." Jack gave her a sad look. "Really…there's you, of course…there's the _Pearl_…there's rum…the possibilities are endless."

"I'm sure they are," Elizabeth said, rolling her eyes.

"Back to my original question…what was it exactly that you were deep in thought about?" Jack questioned again.

"You," Elizabeth responded. It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Like I said…"

"No, not that, Captain One-Track Mind."

Jack frowned.

… … …

In the Captain's cabin, Barbossa and Jack pored over the maps. "I say by about tomorrow afternoon we should be there," Barbossa estimated.

"Mmm," Jack agreed, tapping the edge of the blank absentmindedly. "And then…"

"We grab Turner and go t' Tia Dalma's," Barbossa put in.

"And after that…after we have 'im back…" Jack trailed off once more.

"Jack, consider somethin' else. Does the boy _want_ t' be rescued? What's 'e got t' go back to? Nothin'. Absolutely nothin'. We're bringin' 'im back for our own happiness. Or, at least," Barbossa added, "ye an' Elizabeth are. But really, there's nothin' left for 'im."

"His father," Jack said suddenly. "'E's got 'is father."

"Bootstrap's dead," Barbossa stated bluntly. "We'll 'ave t' get 'im back too."

"Bootstrap's been dead long enough he'll just wake up without Tia Dalma. Will's the only one we'll have to get back," Jack said.

Someone knocked on the door. "Aye?" "C'min!" Barbossa and Jack said at the same time.

"Dinner time!" David announced.

"Good," Jack said, getting up. "I'm so bloody hungry I could eat a kraken…"

"I'm not sure you could eat a kraken, but I'm sure _it_ could eat _ye_…again," Barbossa growled.

Jack looked at him. "Shut it, you."

"'S true," Barbossa said loudly while David tried not to laugh at the thought of his own father being eaten by a kraken twice. "Ye tried to eat that thing, ye'd have leftover calamari for days. It tried to eat ye, it'd have naught but a morsel of long pork for lunch."

"Long pork?" David cut in.

Barbossa looked down at him. "Human flesh. Who is he, anyway?" he put to Jack.

"My son, David," Jack said.

"Perky little thing, inn'e?"

He shrugged. "I seem to recall you being this way for a bit, and look how you turned out: a grumpy old pirate who's got nothing better to do than lead a mutiny."

Barbossa rolled his eyes. "Thank ye, Jack, ye're a fine friend."

"As are you," Jack returned, executing a small bow over his hands. Barbossa hit him in the back of the head, knocking his hat off. Jack caught it and placed it back on his head, massaging the back of his neck.

"That was fer shootin' me," Barbossa said in explanation.

"Thanks."

He hit Jack in the back of the head again.

"What was _that_ for?!"

"That be fer callin' me old."

"Oh."

… … …

"…so then, the beaver walks up to me, right? And 'e goes, 'Excuse me, sir, but could you direct me to the north pole?' So I say, 'Well, won't you be cold?' And the beaver goes, 'I'm the one wit fur, not you, you dolt.' So then I go, 'I suppose you would go straight north until you run into a glacier.' The beaver says, 'Thank you kindly, sir.' And then – get this – he turns into a cherry tomato and jumps over the side and swims away. _Who knew_ cherry tomatoes had a sense of direction? But then again, who knew cherry tomatoes could swim?"

Jack's explanation of his dream was finished off to an uproar of laughter around the table. (Barbossa just gave Jack an odd look. He looked like he was struggling in his endeavor to not laugh.) Jack was nearly in tears. "Cherry tomatoes with a sense of direction!" he gasped. Elizabeth's shoulders quaked with laughter.

"How do you come up with this?" she asked breathlessly.

"Only from Jack Sparrow," Barbossa grumbled.

"Exactly my point, mate!" Jack exclaimed, slamming the table for emphasis. "Thank you! Gibbs, pass over the hardtack, will you?" He took a large piece and banged it on the table. Thankfully, nothing came out.

Elizabeth bit into her meat for the first time, finally able to do so without choking on her laughter. The rest of the pirates around the table broke into loud conversations, punctuated by laughs and bangs on the table. "When will we arrive?" Elizabeth asked Jack loudly.

"Tomorrow afternoon," Jack answered. "Oh, Barbossa and I've decided to get Bootstrap as well."

"That's nice. I've only met him a few times, he was very kind," Elizabeth said.

"He was a good friend," Jack agreed, raising his half-drained bottle of rum. "To Bootstrap Bill Turner!" he toasted. The pirates drank and resumed their conversations.

"Bloody fool," Barbossa mumbled darkly.

Without even looking up from his plate, Jack gave Barbossa a whack on the back of the head. Barbossa nearly snorted rum through his nose.

A/N: Hope you liked it…next chapter they'll arrive at World's End, that should be interesting…Leave me some love, it may just inspire me to write faster… ;)


	12. Can Bootstraps Get Drunk?

A/N: Wow…I haven't updated in a long time…I am so sorry…I just haven't had a lot of time what with school and all that, and I had a bit of writer's block until about 9:30 last night. I will try to update much faster now…I'm sorry…Anyways this chapter is kind of sad-ish but you will see why. It had to happen sometime.

DISCLAIMER: No, I don't own PotC. Yes, that was a recorded voice. No, I don't care.

Chapter 12 

The night was unnaturally cold as we stepped out on deck. A thin layer of frost coated the rails, the deck, even the sails. The pale, dead moon cast its beams down and gleamed off the frost, giving the whole ship an almost unearthly aura.

Crisp air cleared the slight haze from my head. Barbossa went off to a private cabin below deck. Elizabeth and I made our way to the Captain's cabin, and I drew the door shut behind us. "It's bloody dark!" Elizabeth exclaimed immediately, running into something. I smirked.

"Want the bed tonight, luv?"

"No, no, it's your turn for it, I can't take it," she said sounding slightly flustered.

"Fine, fine," I said, putting my hands up innocently.

Elizabeth crashed into something else and cursed. I guided her to the hammock. "It's right here. There you g- _ow_, you've _got_ to stop doing that. Here, have another blanket, I've got my coat," I said.

"'Night, Jack," Elizabeth murmured as I climbed into the bed.

"'Night, luv."

… … …

I awoke the next morning to someone banging on the door.

Elizabeth had apparently climbed into bed next to me at some point during the night because of the cold, bringing the blanket with her. "Lizzie," I muttered sleepily. "Wake up. No, come on, luv, I think we're here."

"'M up," Elizabeth mumbled, stretching.

I rolled myself out of bed.

"Jack! Get yer carcass out here!" Barbossa bellowed.

I flung the door open-

"Oh, bloody hell."

A huge brawl had started right in the middle of the deck. At least ten pirates were involved, all armed to the teeth. Gibbs and a few others were attempting to stop them, to no effect. I looked confusedly at Barbossa. "What _happened_?"

Barbossa shrugged. "I dunno…"

"Jack, what's happening?" Elizabeth asked, coming up next to me.

"I don't know, luv…" I answered distractedly, shaking her off and pushing my way into the gathered crowd after Barbossa. I grabbed one man at the front. "What's going on here?" I questioned him.

"See, it's like this," the man told me. "Dillard 'ere took somethin' from Teabes, and Grimer an' a few of 'is friends sided wit' Teabes an' started in on Dillard, an' then a few of Dillard's friends-"

"Enough," I cut him off quickly. I drew my pistol, cocked it, and cracked it off into the air. The men involved in the brawl immediately fell upon each other, yelling.

"ENOUGH!" Barbossa roared. I jumped a little. The men instantly fell silent. "All yers," he said cheerfully.

"Right," I said. "Dillard! What is it exactly you took from Teabes?"

Dillard fumbled over himself. "Sir! Sir, I-"

"What _is_ it, Dillard?" I repeated dangerously. Dillard shakily held up a plain silver ring. "Give it to me," I ordered. "Teabes!"

"Sir?" Teabes said, standing up, his lip bloody and a cut above one eyebrow.

"I believe this is yours," I said, dropping the ring into his hand.

"My thanks, sir," Teabes said earnestly, sliding the ring on.

Now I turned back to Dillard. "In the articles, Dillard, what was said about men who stole from other members of the crew?"

"That…they'd be marooned…"

I smiled. "Well, then, it's your lucky day."

"It is, sir?"

"Yes. We're coming up on an island now. You'll be able to go with a full belly."

Dillard stared. "Sir- you don't really mean to-"

"Of course I mean to." I placed a threatening hand on the hilt of my cutlass. "Off you go."

"I get a pistol," Dillard said breathlessly. "A pistol with one shot."

I handed him one. "There you are. Now off with you." Barbossa looked at me as though about to say something, but before he could do so, Dillard had reached the side and swiveled around, aiming the pistol at me. One of the closer men shoved him over the side. The pistol went off, the round burying itself in the mast. Dillard fell overboard and doggy paddled to the island.

"What I was going to say was to throw the pistol overboard so he couldn't shoot anyone, but never mind," Barbossa said.

"Thanks for the late advice. Right!" I said cheerily, clapping my hands. "I want Teabes's watch aloft, Gibbs at the wheel, and Grimer's watch cleaning the deck."

"Aye, Captain, aye!" the men chorused, hurrying off to their stations.

"Think he'll be dead by the time we come back?" Barbossa asked.

I shrugged indifferently. "Probably. Wonder what was so appealing about that bloody ring?"

"It wasn't anything fancy, that's for sure," Elizabeth put in.

"Ah, well," Barbossa said. "We should be there soon, shouldn't we?"

"Yep," I said. "Who do you think? You, me, and Elizabeth?"

Barbossa grunted. "Sounds good."

"Elizabeth?"

"Agreed."

"Good."

… … …

Soon enough, the water began to turn steadily grayer. The crew, nervous, shuffled silently about their duties. Barbossa, Elizabeth, and I amused ourselves with a few play fights, though even these were tense and awkward. The ocean fluxed restlessly beneath us, creating swirling waves of colorless water.

Finally, I called for the anchor to be dropped. The three of us climbed into a longboat. Barbossa and I took the oars and started to row, keeping up a conversation the whole way and memorizing the course we took. "There," Barbossa said, pointing to an island. "I see 'im." We rowed quickly to the island he had pointed out.

Will's body lay peacefully in the sand. His hands were at his sides and a new, clean shirt covered the bite and the bruise, apparently changed out by Elizabeth before his funeral. His face was serious, almost expressionless, eyes closed. The sword still hung at his hip from the dark leather sheath.

The boat nudged up against the shore. We clambered out and I took Will's knees, motioning Barbossa to the elbows. Both of us carried him to the boat and laid him in the stern. "Now for Bootstrap," I murmured to no one in particular, taking one of the oars again. Elizabeth came and sat up against my knees.

We found Bootstrap facedown in the water, his long, thin, dark hair floating around him. The three of us hoisted him into the boat; I was a little surprised to see that the sea life had disintegrated from his person.

Elizabeth watched the motionless body as the boat moved back toward the _Black Pearl_. As we neared, Bootstrap's hand twitched and he opened his eyes. "Jack! Elizabeth!" he said hoarsely. "I had the strangest dream…"

I grinned at him. "It wasn't a dream, mate," I told him, but I doubted he was paying very much attention to me at the moment.

"Barbossa?" Bootstrap was saying incredulously. "What-"

"I've been alive a while yet," Barbossa growled. "And Jack 'n' I've decided to be somewhat friendly again. We've pretty much gotten even."

"I see," Bootstrap said, though he clearly didn't. "And where's Will?"

"Yes, Jack, where is Will?" Barbossa smiled, in effect pushing the news-breaking job on me.

"Will," I said, buying myself time. "Well, hear me out before you go all…you know, savvy? Will died. But, we have him with us, and we're going to get him back like we did you, so everyone'll be all…happy, harmonious, yippee? No? All right then…"

"Dead?" Bootstrap said blankly. "How?"

"He was, ah, bitten. By a, um, demon." I failed to add the fact that he had been trying to save _my_ skin. "…Oh, come on, mate, he's coming back, just things've gone a bit screwy, so Tia Dalma's fixing it-"

Elizabeth put her hand over my mouth. "Not helping, Jack."

I gave her hand a soft bite. She jerked it away. "That's what you get," I scolded, trying not to focus my attention on Bootstrap. I'm not good at this kind of thing, for God's sake. Give me a break.

But apparently Elizabeth was a heck of a lot better at it than I was, because she was sitting next to Bootstrap with a comforting arm around his shoulders. I looked at Barbossa, only restraining myself from rolling my eyes because Bootstrap was my friend. I merely contented myself with shrugging uncomfortably and going back to rowing.

Barbossa, however, seemed to feel no discomfort whatsoever in rolling his eyes and did so openly. I gave him a discreet – all right, mybe not so discreet – dig in the ribs with my elbow. He seemed not to care.

Elizabeth gave me a scandalized look. Shrugging helplessly, I went back to rowing. "I'm sorry, mate," I said awkwardly, still slightly uncomfortable.

The longboat surprised me by nudging the _Black Pearl_'s hull. "Take 'im to a cabin so 'e doesn't have to see," I muttered at Elizabeth. She quickly disappeared below deck with Bootstrap, and Barbossa and I took Will's body to a different cabin and laid it on the bed. I felt a familiar stab of guilt as I saw the dark bruise through the shirt.

Walking outside, I closed the door after Barbossa. He gave me an odd grin and went up on deck, that bloody undead monkey scampering after him.

I waited up for Elizabeth and Bootstrap and went up beside them. "I suppose you feel light and airy without all that bloody coral," I put to Bootstrap.

"Too right," he said, leaning his elbow on my shoulder. I returned the gesture. Don't take this wrong; we used to do this all the time before he got shanghaied onto the _Dutchman_. As _friends_. Trust me, I should know.

With Elizabeth on my right and Bootstrap on my left, we mounted the stairs that led to the deck. Soon, though, Elizabeth was in front of us out of nerves. Bootstrap and I kept trying to shove each other into the walls.

Barbossa gave me an odd look when I stumbled up on deck after being pushed by Bootstrap. I merely grinned at him.

Elizabeth left the two of us to talk for the rest of the afternoon, which me did. Bootstrap was nearly back to his old self. Still, I couldn't help noticing that he would sometimes sit and stare at the deck without speaking for a moment before snapping to to answer a question or continue a story. That's why I say _almost_ back to his old self.

I continued my attempts to cheer him up until dinner. At that time, Elizabeth lent her aid in this endeavor, and even Barbossa seemed to feel bad enough to help. By the time dinner was over, Barbossa, Elizabeth and I had Bootstrap drunk and laughing uproariously at my dream in which the beaver turned into a cherry tomato.

A/N: Yeah, the brawl/marooning was kind of random. But it got them there, savvy? After the 'mystery person', there'll probably be some action. I think. No wait, definitely. By cannonade and cutlass and all other manner of remorseless pieces of metal. Yaaaay! Anyway, bit of a long chapter, well kinda sorta, but see it as payback for not updating for so long. :( I'm so sorry…


	13. Selna

A/N: Is it? Could it be…? _An update??_ OH MY GOD!! –sheepish look- Blame the writer's block. Umm…also blame the writer's block for the shortness of this chapter. But I am kind of trying to sync the end of this POV with the end of the story, but if it doesn't come out that way…then oh well…

DISCLAIMER: Duh.

Chapter 13 

I was sitting in the sand once again. And I was brooding over my inability to remember myself, once again, blinking sand from my eyes.

A blinding, sickening pain seared my arm, and I yelled hoarsely at the man who stood over me. I stabbed out with my sword; a second scream sounded, and I ran.

I blinked again. "That was different…"

"Bill!" Janelle exclaimed. "You must hurry…time is running out."

"Hurry?" I asked, nonplussed. "What…?"

"Find your name," the girl urged.

I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply. I wanted to smell something. In fact, I could almost remember the tangy scent, for it had been with me since childhood. I wanted to badly to breathe it in again, even just once more.

"Bill!" Janelle said urgently. "You're letting yourself get distracted!"

"All right, all right!" I snapped, closing my eyes again. Janelle's memories poured in on me. One of them I remembered: the woman who kissed her forehead must have been her mother. Within the torrent of thought were only a few coherent memories: a knife, a large, burly man with a shaggy brown mop of hair, a woman with glossy black hair and blue eyes.

Finally there was one memory that was more than just a flash.

_Janelle peeked around the doorframe. She could hear her parents yelling, and she didn't like how often it happened. A great may times the fighting ended with her father striking her mother and leaving to go to a tavern._

"_We've got to do what's best for her…!" her father shouted, slurring her mother's name almost beyond recognition_

"_Have you ever considered that what I said might be it?" her mother fired back. "Because what we're doing right now certainly isn't! Look, you've started a fight while she's right at the door, you hypocrite!" _

_She told him to go do something that Janelle had never heard of before. Her father told her mother to do the same and struck her. He stormed from the house._

"_Mother?" Janelle said quietly. "Are you all right?"_

_Her mother wiped blood from her lip. "Yes, sweetie, I'm fine. Are you?"_

"Yes, mother," Janelle lied.

When I opened my eyes, Janelle had vanished. "Janelle?" I called to the empty desert. "Janelle? No answer. I sighed. Absentmindedly, I unsheathed a dagger, stabbed it into the sand, pulled it out, and repeated the process over again.

It had sounded like the father had said Selna or something of the sort. _Selna._ Who named their kid Selna? But it wasn't Selna _really_, was it? No…it had to be something else.

I scratched my chin, spinning the knife around in the sand. _Selna_, I thought, standing up and starting to pace. _Selna._

I stumbled back.

There was a thump as though someone had punched me in the chest and a burning sensation. The bullet lodged itself in the layers of torn muscle. I fell to the ground, trying desperately to free the lump of metal, and blacked out.

I thumped myself over the head in frustration. _Selna. Selna. What the bloody hell is Selna?_ I resumed my pacing and put the dagger back into its sheath. "Selna," I muttered. "Selna…Silna…Salna…Sarah…Selna…yes, Selna's the closest. Selna…Selna, Selna, Selna…come on…"

"Come on!" I pleaded, almost desperate, looking down imploringly.

I growled. "Selna…"

"MOTHER!" 

"Selna!" I snarled through my teeth. "Come on…what the heck is Selna? A stroke of brilliance would be helpful here…or Tia Dalma's magic…wait…who's Tia Dalma?" I sighed, cocking my head and putting a finger to my chin.

"I used to think it would be exciting to meet a pirate." The woman smiled sadly. "Not as much anymore. It is exciting…just not how I imagined it would be."

_I looked over. "How _did_ you imagine it?"_

_The woman shrugged. "I don't know. Just…different." _

I copied her gesture and took a swig of rum. "I see."

"Mmm…Selna…Selidna? No…Uh." I sat back down.

I came to on a wooden board, sopping wet and shaking. Looking up, I gasped at what I saw.

Horrified, I watched the ship erupt into flames around me. I dove for the rail. 

"Bloody _hell_," I said angrily. "Selna. Selna. Selna. Sel…"

A woman screamed out a name with all her might, her eyes wide and glistening.

"Aahh."

I suddenly knew the name. I scrambled to my feet and went off in search of Janelle.

A/N: Oh my god a cliffie. GASP. Again…really sorry I didn't update for so long…I'll be faster in the future, I promise. Action next chapter! Not so random…relevant. Trust me. :) And leave me some love! Please? XD


	14. Caught

A/N: it's been a while, hasn't it? Hehe…) I swear to god I had the worst writer's block I have ever had in my entire life…but I pretty much know what's going to happen in the next chapter, so hopefully it won't happen again. Forgive me? )

DISCLAIMER: if I owned them I wouldn't be so dead to the fanfiction world. Actually, I would be, because I would be making movies, but whatever.

Chapter 14 

Elizabeth peered through the spyglass toward the horizon. She angrily snapped it shut and stormed over to Jack. "There's an East Indiaman on the horizon," she informed him.

Jack smiled. "That's nice, luv. Get Barbossa, will you?"

Elizabeth told Barbossa what was happening as they walked. "And we've only twenty bloody cannonballs left!" she worried.

"No need to fret, luv," Jack said soothingly. "We can do the same as on the _Interceptor_ if we run out. There's a port about ten leagues from here we can stop and restock on ammunition and provisions."

"And if they capture us?" Elizabeth demanded, hands on hips.

"They won't," Barbossa said confidently. "We'll fire off a broadside or two and board 'em. Simple's that."

"Sounds good," Jack said cheerily. "Barbie, tell the crew, will you?"

"If ye swear never t' call me that again," Barbossa growled, stalking off.

Elizabeth looked at Jack.

"Barbie?"

Jack shrugged.

"Sounded good at the time."

She rolled her eyes and leaned up against him. "So who do you think's been made Lord now that Beckett's dead?"

Jack blinked.

"I dunno, luv. Could be your bloody friend Norrington."

"Friend? Hardly," Elizabeth snorted. "Could be him. I suppose we'll find out soon enough."

"I suppose," Jack said.

The East Indiaman drew nearer as the crew ran out the cannons, waiting for Jack's signal.

Elizabeth opened her spying glass again. Jack followed suit. "Well look who it is," he murmured. "Norrington and the assassin."

"Mercer," Elizabeth said. "Neither of them is lord. They're…he's not even on deck. Probably too cowardly to show his face, if Beckett was anything to go by."

Jack collapsed his spyglass. "Tell the men on the cannons to fire the starboard side for a broadside on my signal. If anyone's still loading, tell 'em to put in chain shot."

Elizabeth ran down the stairs. "Wait for the Captain's signal and fire only on the starboard!" she yelled. "Any still loading, use chain shot!"

"Aye, aye!" the crew chorused.

However, none were still loading. This made Elizabeth nervous. If Jack had wanted chain shot, it had meant he was concerned about the outcome of the fight and that it may have been their only chance, but if there was no chain shot in the volley…

Shaking her head, she made her way back up to top deck. The crew would surely put chain shot in the next volley and increase their chances.

Back up on the quarterdeck, Elizabeth told Jack of the shot problem.

"Damn," he muttered. "We'll get it in the next."

Raising his head, he called over to the East Indiaman. "What do you want?"

"Jack Sparrow!" Norrington shouted back. "Surrender without a fight and you and your men will come to no harm!"

"We could tell ye the same thing!" Barbossa bellowed defiantly.

"Then we are forced to fight!" Norrington called formally, but before he had gotten to the word 'fight,' Jack roared, "FIRE!"

The cannons thundered beneath the deck and blew holes through the East Indiaman. Almost immediately it opened fire in return. At least five redcoats flew from the decks; nearly ten pirates followed suit.

Jack swore as the soldiers started to board. With a snarl, Elizabeth wrenched her cutlass from its sheath and charged into the throng alongside him. As soon as they had entered the fight they were separated by the heaving mass of men.

Elizabeth quickly dispatched two soldiers, and a third slumped to the deck as the hilt of her cutlass struck his head.

"_Elizabeth_?" said an incredulous voice.

Elizabeth whirled around, teeth bared. "Have you a _problem_, Mr. Norrington?"

"Elizabeth," Norrington murmured again. He pulled her aside. "I don't want to see you hung."

"Yes, well. Neither do I."

"Look…I could get you clemency when we get back to Port Royal if you were engaged to me. If you would agree…"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Norrington, but my heart belongs to another," Elizabeth said coldly.

"Will cannot grant you clemency, Elizabeth."

"Of course. I know that. Will is dead."

Norrington looked at her sadly. "Your heart cannot belong to a dead man, Elizabeth."

"I know these things, Mr. Norrington. My heart belongs to Captain Sparrow."

He shook his head. "If your father ever knew…but of course…"

"Of course what?" Elizabeth said sharply.

"Of course…he couldn't know," Norrington said. "Your father died a month ago."

Elizabeth swayed with shock.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, touching her arm.

"Don't touch me," she gasped.

"Elizabeth…"

"I said don't touch me!" She tore herself away and threw herself back into the crowd. In a blind anger, Elizabeth ran one soldier through and broke another's neck before stabbing him in the back. As she fell upon another, he cried out.

"Oi! What're you thinking? Elizabeth! It's only me!" Jack yelled, grabbing on to her wrists.

"He's dead!" she screamed, her vision blurred with tears. "Move! I – I've got to – BLOODY MOVE!"

"Calm down!" Jack bellowed, turning her around and holding her hands behind her back. "Now, what's happened? Who's dead?"

Elizabeth didn't answer; her eyes widened with fear. "Jack, move, please move, for Christ's sake – MOVE!" She heaved her shoulder into him with such force that they both fell to the deck. It felt as though she had been punched in the arm. Jack looked slightly panicky.

"Elizabeth!"

"Next time I say move," she snarled, clamping a hand around her arm, "bloody well _move_, will you?"

Jack nodded distractedly, picking her up and elbowing his way through the crowd.

Barbossa turned around as Jack shouldered past him. "What's 'appened?" he said, seeming genuinely concerned as he ran though the man he had been grappling with.

"I can walk, you know, Jack, it's only my arm," Elizabeth objected.

"I don't care. She's been shot," Jack said, frantically pushing his way to the captain's cabin. Barbossa followed, knocking one of the soldiers out on this way.

Jack laid Elizabeth down. She looked up fuzzily and laughed when he fumbled behind himself for a bandage and ended up smacking Barbossa in the nose. That was the last thing she saw before losing consciousness.

… … …

When Elizabeth woke, she was propped up against a wall. Someone next to her was pressed up against her good arm and had their own arm around her waist, keeping her sitting up. Whoever it was was very warm, and this she was thankful for.

Elizabeth opened her eyes and smiled faintly. It was, of course, Jack. He was apparently asleep, his head tilted back against the wall and his mouth slightly open.

"Mornin'," said a soft voice on her other side.

She started.

"Cheery little place, this, isn't it?" Barbossa continued.

Elizabeth looked around at the cell.

"They caught us," she said in a quiet voice. "Damn…where are we?"

"They brought us back to Port Royal," Barbossa said. He lowered his voice as Jack shifted. "Try not t' wake 'im up. He's so bloody worried he gets t' be an annoyance. Anyway…Jack convinced 'em not to sink the _Pearl_. Told 'em that it'd be useful t' the Tradin' Company. Why 'e would ever give over the _Pearl_ t' those fools is beyond me, but ah well."

"Have they put us on trial yet?" Elizabeth asked.

"No," Barbossa said. "However, our hangin's set for dawn, the bloody b-"

"_What?_ My father wouldn't – no, of course he wouldn't, he can't…" She exhaled and let her head fall back against the wall.

"So it _was_ him," Barbossa said. "Jack told me ye said someone was dead."

Elizabeth nodded mutely. There were a few moments of silence.

"'M sorry," Barbossa said awkwardly.

Elizabeth nodded again. "Thank you."

Jack shifted once more and his mouth closed. "Elizabeth," he mumbled sleepily. "How's your arm? Does it hurt?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so."

"You don't _think_ so? Come on, luv, it either hurts or it doesn't."

Barbossa leaned over and smacked him in the head.

"Shut up."

"Ouch! What?" Jack said.

David crawled over to the bars separating the crew and him from Barbossa, Jack, and Elizabeth. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Yer twelve-year-old son caught on somethin' was wrong before ye did, and he's in the next cell over, idiot," Barbossa said scornfully.

Jack cast him a withering look. The older pirate didn't seem to care.

"Lizzie, what's the matter?" he asked gently.

"He's dead," Elizabeth whispered.

"Who?"

"He…my father. He died a month ago. I don't – I don't kn-know how…"

"I'm sorry, luv," Jack murmured, closing his eyes briefly. "I can't say as I knew 'im well, although he did try to hang me, but I'm sure he was a good man."

"He didn't really want to hang you," Elizabeth choked, forcing a smile. "He said he was b-bound by the l-law…and that p-perhaps when following the r-right path d-demanded an act of p-piracy…that perhaps…piracy its-self was th-the right course." She let out a strangled sob and bit her lip hard.

"He would have bloody well let me go," she heard Jack breathe. "I'm so sorry…" He cradled her against himself, careful to avoid touching her bad arm.

Elizabeth went limp against him and barely noticed as one hand left her for a minute, tore off part of a sleeve of his shirt, and reached over her head, then came back. A moment later she felt Barbossa tying the makeshift bandage around the first. Apparently it was bleeding through. She forced her concentration on the burning pain rather than on her grief. But she couldn't help remembering the fear in her father's voice when Mercer had found she was not in the carriage…she would have been willing to bet that the assassin was at least partly responsible for her father's dead. She sobbed harder.

The cell door banged open. Elizabeth heard Norrington's voice above her. "Elizabeth, come with me for a moment. I can take care of the shot," he said.

She felt Jack's arms tighten protectively.

"I'll go, Jack," Elizabeth said. "They've probably better than what we've got in here."

Jack's grip relaxed slightly.

"You sure, luv? You'll be all right?"

Elizabeth nodded and gulped.

"I'll be fine," she said shakily, wiping her eyes and standing. She followed Norrington out of the cell, which he locked, and into a different room, where he closed the door.

"Sit," he said, gesturing to a chair.

Elizabeth sank into the chair and allowed Norrington to remove the blood-soaked bandages for a look at the wound. As he cleaned it, she suddenly couldn't stand it any longer.

"What happened to him?" she asked quietly.

Norrington looked up.

"We guessed it was a stroke," he said. "It was very quick. He died in his sleep."

Elizabeth forced herself to nod, and it came a little harder than she meant it to.

"Better than…that what I…"

"You thought Mercer had something to do with it," Norrington guessed, reaching back for a clean bandage and starting to wrap it around Elizabeth's arm.

She nodded again.

Pausing, Norrington listened, as though nervous someone would hear him. Then he turned back.

"You guessed right," he murmured, so softly that Elizabeth almost had to read his lips to comprehend what was being said.

"I heard Beckett giving Mercer the orders myself," Norrington admitted, looking down at the bandage as though fascinated by it. "It was still very quick…but Mercer somehow slipped poison into Governor Swann's evening tea."

A/N: dun dun DUN…next chapter we find out who was made Lord after Jack killed Beckett. And I guarantee you that not one of you will expect it. Even I didn't expect it until I finished writing this chapter. So…I hope this looooooong looooong chapter made up for my looooooong loooooong absence from the story. Leave me some love! I'm almost to 100 and am completely psyched about it! D


	15. Escaped

A/N: oh. My. God. A fast update. It is the start of the apocalypse. RUN FOR YOUR LIVES. Wait, maybe not. Thanks to missrisa77…you were my 100th reviewer! Woohoo! You rock! Anyways…enjoy this chappie. Well, I hope you do at least. )

DISCLAIMER: ahem, moving on to another subject…-runs from the lawyers-

Chapter 15 

A pair of soldiers chained my hands behind my back before leading me from the cell. They guided me down a hall or two and into a room, where the two of them started bickering.

"We're not to talk to the prisoner, orders of Lord Marks 'imself!"

"Well, what 'appens if I talks to 'im _anyways_?"

"I tell you, Lord Marks won't like it!"

"Come on, it can't do any 'arm -"

"Oh, shut it," I snapped. "I remember the both of you, and if I happen to shove you out the window you can't swim."

The two soldiers looked at me sheepishly, but didn't say a thing.

The door opened behind me.

"Mr. Murtogg, Mr. Mullroy, I could hear you sniping away at each other like a married couple from the far end of the hall," a man said coldly.

I turned around for a look at him and stumbled back.

"Holy…bloody…buggeries…"

The two of us stared at each other in astonishment for at least a minute.

"Bloody hell," I muttered. "I thought you were dead."

Mullroy – or at least who I thought was Mullroy – let out a short laugh. "Lord Marks?" he said incredulously. "You thought Lord Marks was dead? Tha's absurd, that is!"

"I thought Lord Marks was dead long before he became Lord Marks," I said faintly, still staring at the man.

"_Jack_?" he said.

"_Father_?" I asked. "How – how did -?"

"Sit," my father said, his eyes holding nothing but a faint flicker of scorn.

"What _happened?_ How did you live? I was told that you were stabbed," I said, leaving out my own part. "And if you're still here, why did I inherit the _Pearl_?"

My father sat across from me. "I told no one who I was," he said. "Dr. McDowler performed surgery and left, because he didn't think there was much hope. When I left, the town thought I had gone off into the woods and died. So I enrolled in the Navy, worked for the East India Trading Company, and here we are."

I kept an unwavering gaze on him.

"I see."

"And I see you took the _Pearl_ and made her a _pirate ship_," my father said, spitting the words 'pirate ship' as though they were filth.

"Yes," I answered, my eyes still locked on his.

"Why didn't you go into the Navy?" he asked. "You could have respect, high social standing…but you decided to become a _pirate_."

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," I stated. "I _have_ respect and high social standing. I have even more than that."

"There is nothing more that you could have. Pirates do not have respect and high social standing, and even if you have that within your society, there is nothing more you could have," my father said, the scorn burning in his eyes now. "If you had this in the Navy, you wouldn't constantly be on the run from the hangman's noose, and if anything that is less."

"You know _why_ I'm constantly on the run from the hangman's noose?" I snarled at him.

"I couldn't possibly -"

"Because I have freedom!" I bellowed, cutting across him.

My father stood, hard lines etched around his mouth in a dark scowl. I stood as well, knocking my chair across the room in the process. Murtogg and Mullroy blinked like blinded owls from the corner of the room, looking afraid.

"Where is the heart of Davy Jones?" my father asked, his brow knitted so close together that he looked like a hawk.

For a moment I considered telling him. In fact, I almost did tell him. Then I took a look at his maroon coat, blue vest embroidered with gold, custom made scabbard, and fine, buckled shoes and refrained. He was just like any other nobleman, just as contemptuous of pirates and just as willing to hang them as any other.

I gave him a sneer.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

… … …

Owing to my current temper, Murtogg and Mullroy didn't dare try to chat with me on the way back to the cell. In fact, they hurried as quickly as they could, unlocked my handcuffs with all the speed they could muster, and locked. The cell.

I let loose a few choice words that mad David jump in surprise, Elizabeth say "Jack!" and give me a scandalized look, and Barbossa do nothing but continue watching me with a slightly amused look, then slammed the side of my fist into the wall.

"Do that a few more times and we'll be outta here in no time," Barbossa said.

I glared at him.

"What happened?" Elizabeth asked anxiously, coming over to put her hand on my shoulder.

I called my father a few more names.

"_He_ is what happened," I said in a barely controlled voice.

"Who?" Elizabeth said. "The new lord?"

I curled my lip.

"Yes."

"Who is it? What's his name?"

"Jonathan Marks," I spat.

Barbossa looked up. "Am I thinkin' of the right person?" he asked in surprise.

"You bloody _bet_ you are," I snarled furiously.

"But ye _killed_ him."

"_He bloody survived._"

I swing around blindly and gripped the bars in a vice-like fist.

"Who _is_ Jonathan Marks?" Elizabeth asked, looking from me to Barbossa in confusion.

"He's my father," I said angrily, pacing the cell.

"You killed your father?"

"It was an accident," I said testily. "And I thought I had."

Elizabeth stopped me again and slipped her hand over mine.

"What did he do?"

"What he typically does," I mumbled, leaving my hand loosed and flexing the other one.

"And he typically…"

"Is an -"

"Jack."

"Fine. Berated me for not joining the Navy so I could have social status, basically called me a piece of filth for being a pirate, blah, blah, blah…"

"And you…?"

"Probably would have told him to shut his mouth before I gave him a few scars to remember me by had I not been handcuffed at the time and had he not had an entire army at his command but settled for yelling at him."

Barbossa rolled his eyes.

"What an alternative."

"Shut it, you," I said. "Moving on…I don't particularly look forward to being hung by my own father. I'm getting out of here tonight."

Barbossa rolled his eyes again and muttered something I didn't quite catch.

… … …

"This has to be done very carefully," I murmured into Barbossa's ear. "We have to lift the door as quietly as we can from its hinges and put it against the wall. Then one of us has to go keep watch in case of guards that might hear us and the other will use the bench to lift the other door free. Elizabeth will give us back our effects and we'll go from there."

"Firstly, how exactly are we lifting this door from its hinges?" Barbossa asked disbelievingly.

"Half pin barrel hinges," I replied. "Will told me about it. He helped build these. It's how he got me out the last time I was here."

"Arright. Secondly, we go from there to what, exactly?"

"I'll tell you when we get there," I answered.

This done, I told first Elizabeth, then Anamaria what I had told Barbossa, adding to Anamaria to tell the rest of the crew. When she gave me the thumbs up, I crawled over to Elizabeth and woke her up. "It's time," I whispered. She nodded and sat up, her eyes wide with anticipation.

Barbossa and I took hold of the door.

"On the count of three," I whispered. "One…two…three…"

The two of us heaved upwards; there was a small _clang_.

"Easy," I breathed. "A little more -"

The hinges started to come loose; we pushed harder; the door gave a tin moan of protest, and finally came free. Letting out a breath of relief, Barbossa and I set it against the wall.

"Barbossa, stand guard," I said quietly. "Elizabeth, you know what to do. We'll wait until you come back to free the other door."

Barbossa drew a dagger from his boot and moved to the door. Elizabeth disappeared down a hallway. I silently lifted the bench and leaned it against the door of the second cell, where the crew was milling around restlessly.

A minute later, Elizabeth reappeared. She handed me my hat and compass, slid the pistol and cutlass into their respective sheaths, and pushed the crew's swords between the bars. While I put on the hat and compass, she tiptoed over to Barbossa and handed him his effects before posting watch on the other side of the doorway.

"Ready?" I asked softly.

Small murmurs of assent reached me.

The bench scraped loudly on the stone floor; hinges shrieked; the door tumbled to the ground with a loud crash. The crew poured forth from the cell.

"Quickly, quickly," I muttered, leading the pirates off at a jog.

We soon reached the same beach from which Will and I had departed when we first met.

"Underneath the boats," I ordered the men.

I watched them all flash by, grins laced silver with moonlight. Elizabeth, Barbossa, and I took the final boat. We had barely laid the edge on the sand when at least ten pairs of boots trotted up.

Pressing a finger to my lips, I stared at the shadows through the sliver of light at the rim. One of the pairs of boots stopped. I could almost hear the other two holding their breath as the butt of a gun banged the hull of the little boat. I swallowed noiselessly.

Seemingly satisfied that there was no one under the boat (_Imbeciles_, I thought), the soldiers moved off toward the jail at a fast clip. As soon as the sound of their footsteps faded away, I ordered, "Move! Into the water and down to the bottom so the air will be trapped in the hull!"

Up and down the beach, the canoes lifted a foot or so and began shuffling down towards the water. The boats went under with a _whoosh_, dragging a pocket of air with them.

"The _Pearl_ is straight ahead," I said, my voice echoing around the hull. "Try not to step in any lobster traps. Will did that last time and nearly got us caught."

When we started to run out of air, we sucked in a breath, allowed ourselves to be buoyed up to the surface, tossed the boat aside, and waited for the rest to come up.

Fortunately, we were only a little bit from the _Pearl_'s stern. I motioned for everyone to follow, took hold of the anchor rope, and started to climb. At the rail, I took a quick glance around the decks. Two guards were pacing their length.

By unspoken agreement, Barbossa and I landed lightly on the tarred boards, grabbed a guard each, and pressed daggers to their necks. Reassuring them that we would personally find and kill them if we heard that anyone by their names had informed the Navy or the East India Trading Company of the direction that the _Pearl_ had gone, we tossed them overboard.

The crew surged over the rails and onto the decks.

"We can't sail until we're out of earshot; they'll hear the sails unfurling," I said. "Use cloth to muffle the oars; the rest stay on deck and wait until I say to weigh anchor, and then unfurl the sails when we've gone far enough."

I turned to Elizabeth.

"Go make sure they've left Will, luv."

Elizabeth nodded and went off below decks.

Barbossa stuck his head out of the hold. "The oars're set," he said.

"Good. Elizabeth?"

"Will is still here."

"Good. Weigh anchor!" I ordered.

The men around the capstan, including David and Bootstrap, ground forward. A few moments later the anchor came up, dripping.

"Row!"

The muffled oars churned the water silently. In this slow, painstaking way, the _Black Pearl_ left Port Royal. Once the bay was out of sight, the sails were unfurled, and a course was set for Tia Dalma's island.

A/N: although it saddens me to say it, we are nearing the end of the story. But don't worry; I've got a little surprise stored up my sleeve. ;-) leave me some love!


	16. Blood rain

A/N: I can't stand it anymore!!! I must tell the surprise!! I am too excited about it. ) so it will be in the end author's note. Dun dun dunnn. We find out who our mystery person is this chapter. Haha you'll never guess…well until the end of the chapter of course. I think we have about 2 more after this one to go so…keep reading! Don't leave me now that AWE is out…please?

Warning: chapter slightly odd. I was in an odd mood when I came up with this part.

DISCLAIMER: they're not mine, but I wish I'd come up with them. They're so cool. 'Did no one come to save me just because they missed me?' –hands raise- 'I'm standing over there with them.'

Chapter 16 

For the very first time since I had been here, torrential rain was pouring from the heavens. I was completely drenched to the skin and sprinting through the downpour, calling for Janelle.

My feet were suddenly knocked from under me. A huge swell of sand rolled by, ambling along like the most normal thing on earth.

"What…?" I muttered, scrambling to my feet.

"JANELLE!"

A blast of wind tore across the desert. I stumbled over the swells, which were steadily increasing in size and frequency.

Suddenly, with a horrible ripping noise, a giant rift stretched jaggedly across the sky. The air around it rippled with deep purples and reds. As I continued to stare up at the sky, the rain started to change. It was darkening, the drops thickening. I put out my hand and studied the drops. Red. What the…?

_Bloody hell,_ I thought. _It's raining _blood.

I stared at my hand as it reddened.

Another wave knocked me over. Squeezing my eyes shut before any blood could get in them, I allowed the sand waves to roll me along.

A small, strong pair of hands dragged me away from the waves. "Bill, what is it?" Janelle asked calmly, raising her voice above the pounding red rain.

The smell of blood was overwhelming. It was so thick that it coated the back of my throat, as though it were a wad of metallic cotton. I gagged on it, opened my eyes, and wrinkled my nose at the sight of the blood-muddied sand.

Screams floated from the tear in the sky, pained and beseeching. Covering my ears, I closed my eyes tightly once more and gritted my teeth.

"Bill," Janelle murmured again, touching my hand.

I forced my eyes open and looked up at her, rolling to my knees. Her face was soaked with blood from the rain, and her fair hair was matted with the thick, sticky liquid. The white robe, pants, and shirt were stained red. It looked as though she was bleeding to death.

I stared, disturbed at the sight, and the girl's bloody face stared straight back. Feeling hot drops roll down my face, I wondered how I myself must look.

"Focus, Bill," Janelle urged. "There is no time."

I nodded with difficulty. "Selena," I gasped past the cottony obstruction in my throat. "Her name was Selena."

"Selena," Janelle repeated. She closed her eyes and smiled faintly in contentment. The odd combination of the blood running down her face and the expression of bliss made a hair-raising scene.

"What's my name?" I pressed urgently.

I felt harried, as though I was fading and becoming closer to the screams and sobs and the scent of death, decay, gore, fear, burning flesh….Was it my own fear I could smell, or was it someone else's? Was I the one that was dying, or was I rotting as I lived? Or was I lying in a pool of slime and rotting bile, unable to move away from the thousands of corpses, which were deprived of eyes, limbs, even faces?

"Listen to me!" Janelle hissed, cutting through the horrified pinwheel of thought. Then she told me my name.

I echoed her, allowing the sounds to roll from my tongue as smoothly as polished marble.

I remembered. Recalled. Gained back the knowledge of my practice. Learned from all of my mistakes at one time. Relived. Rethought. Reassessed.

And then I was sucked into the void.

Now I was sure that I was the one decaying, deteriorating by the second. At any time now the crows would swoop down, gouge out my eyes with their beaks, tear my throat with their claws. I tried to yell but couldn't move my jaw due to the fact that the skin had completely left my body, the muscles, blood, tendons, all but my brain and nerves, which all screamed at me to get up, run away, run, run, run….

I was slammed onto a stone floor hard on my back. The smooth rock instantly scalded me and I arched my back in pain, relieved that my muscles had returned at the very least.

Someone _tsk_ed above me. Something forced me to my knees.

I opened my eyes slowly to see a woman sitting above me on a stone seat which melded to her form perfectly.

"Welcome," the woman said in tones that reminded me of honeyed venom. "I am Lady Hel."

Someone screamed in agony below.

I scrambled to my feet, scuttled backwards a few feet, and started to fall…and fall…

… … …

I wrenched my eyes open and stifled a yelp. Almost stifled. Not really. I was too busy trying to clear away the stench of blood.

"What happened?" said a woman's voice. I mumbled something, closed my eyes tightly, and curled up in the hammock.

"What?" the woman's voice said again.

I repeated what I had said.

"I can't hear you."

I let out a shudder at the thought of Lady Hel and repeated Janelle's final words once out loud, though they echoed on in my head.

"Captain Jonathan David Sparrow…" I trailed off for a moment. "There was so much blood….Captain…"

"Jack…there's no blood….Jack, what are you talking about? You're fine…"

"Blood. There was blood. And dead people. And fire. And _her_…"

"Her?"

"Lady Hel," I said robotically.

"And the blood?"

I groaned softly. "Janelle. I hope she's all right…"

I flopped from the hammock with no grace whatsoever and staggered out on deck.

"Jack, what…? Elizabeth said in confusion.

"Damn crows took my eyes," I muttered. "Kill 'em."

"Aye, took mine too," said a voice behind me.

I turned around. Barbossa. Arms folded, shoulder for devoid of the stupid undead monkey. "Tell me you had the too," I said hoarsely. "The dreams. I can't be the only one."

"Nay, I had 'em. Once ye get up t' the point where ye go into the void they go away. They weren' that bad, were they?" Barbossa asked in a strange voice.

"I might remind you that _you_ weren't eaten by a kraken," I growled, still slightly disoriented.

"True," he said fairly, and stumped off below deck.

"Will's going to have those same exact dreams because of me," I stated after a minute or two.

"How do you think I feel?" Elizabeth fired back. "And it's not your fault."

"It is….If I hadn't let him come…" I trailed off sadly.

I could see Elizabeth struggling for an answer. "It's still not your fault," she came out with finally. Still, I could tell that she was trying hard to convince herself as much as she was me.

Part of me wanted her to be right and persuade me from my line of thought. But some small, honest voice told me that said train of thought was right. It was as though Elizabeth sensed my thoughts. She pulled me into a hug.

"Will would forgive you," she murmured. "He knew you didn't mean anything."

"I know," I told the top of her head. "Only problem is, I won't forgive me, no matter what me says to I."

A/N: well there you are, it was Jack dreaming the whole time. Trust me, this will be relevant to the surprise, which is…another sequel! It will most likely be short-ish (I think haha) but it will be a sequel. Two chapters to go…will probably switch between points of view more than before. So leave me some reviews, maybe I'll be able to get my lazy butt on the computer sooner.


	17. Return of the Terrific Soprano

A/N: okay, so I wasn't planning to write more than 2 more chapters including this one but when I wrote this one I left a little openness for more than one more chapter. Review and tell me if you want me to expand on it a bit. You'll know what it is when you read. I think :-)

Anyway, yes it took a long time this time too but it was kind of beyond my control. Been a little worried because an old friend just got in a car accident and got pneumonia. Very sorry.

DISCLAIMER: author too depressed to put up disclaimer. Check back later. Although it will probably never be up on this chapter.

Chapter 17 

There was a certain hush about the pirates as Jack and Elizabeth laid Will's body in the longboat. Elizabeth looked as though she were about to cry, but was struggling to hold it back. Jack refused to look at Will's face. They sat at the bow and Jack put his arm around Elizabeth. She laid her head on his shoulder as the boat moved off.

Further down the river, the people from the bayou were lined up along the banks with candles and solemn expressions. They slid noiselessly into the water and took up a low, throbbing hum.

"They did this when you died, too," Elizabeth said quietly to Jack. He didn't answer.

The fireflies winked on and off, buzzing between the trees. Candlelight flickered and lit up the river. The low hum settled those on the boat into a steady beat: Pintel with the metal-tipped rod on the river bottom, Jack, Elizabeth, and the rest staring straight ahead.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and allowed the noise to thrum and vibrate through her body. It was oddly calming, the noise and the feel of Jack's arm stiff against her own. Opening her eyes, she saw him sitting ramrod straight on the seat and trying to seem as though he were looking calmly ahead.

"Jack," she murmured.

He jumped and looked over at her. She furrowed her brow.

"What's wrong?"

"Me?" Jack said. "Oh." He looked back out.

"Nothing."

"Something's bothering you," Elizabeth stated.

"It's nothing," Jack repeated.

"You're never bothered," Elizabeth shot back. "Something's wrong. Your father?"

"Nah, I never bother meself with him. Stupid peacock."

"Then what?"

"Bloody nothing. Anticipation, I s'pose."

The longboat moved on in silence. Ripples of water spread serenely to the edges of the bayou. Soft, flickering yellow light strained between the trees from Tia Dalma's windows. A golden chink swept over Will's still face.

Tia Dalma's hut soon came into view. Pintel steered the boat up to the dock. Jack tied the bow off and Will was lifted between him and Barbossa.

"Complications arose, Jack Sparrow?" Tia Dalma said solemnly.

"Aye," Jack answered quietly. "We were slowed a bit by the kraken's attack."

"I see."

Tia Dalma led the way to the same room where Barbossa and then Jack had before lain dead, her ragged skirts whispering on the boards.

"Once again, Jack Sparrow, ye get off on a mere technicality," she continued on loudly, indicating to set Will on the bed.

Jack looked up.

"Get off of what?"

"As you were slowed down, no one will have ta sacrifice demselves fo' William Turn-ah."

"That makes me feel rather good, then."

"I need da ring, howevah. I can feel it here in youm numbahs."

Jack looked over the heads and quickly found who he was looking for.

"Teabes, I believe you have the item in question?"

Teabes stepped forward, slipped off the ring, and dropped it into Jack's outstretched palm.

"There ye are, sir. Just like I promised ye."

"Thank you, Mr. Teabes," Jack said. He passed the ring to Tia Dalma.

Barbossa's eyes narrowed as the ring changed hands.

"Do ye think Dillard knew?" he muttered to Jack.

Jack looked uncomfortable at the thought.

"How?" he asked. "Only one other person that knows about it b'sides us and Tia Dalma."

"Who?" Barbossa asked urgently.

"Sao Feng," Jack said.

Barbossa's eyes widened.

"Si-lance!" Tia Dalma ordered, cutting Barbossa's answer short. "Leave me in silence."

The pirates crowded eagerly out of the door, and Barbossa steered Jack out onto the rotted, sagging porch, away from the rest.

"_Sao Feng, _ye said?" Barbossa said incredulously.

Jack nodded.

"How the bloody hell does _he _know? Arr, that's beside the point."

"What _is _the point?" Jack said in exasperation.

"Dillard was an Asian man, ye bloody fool," Barbossa growled.

Jack looked down at his boots with a finger on his chin for a few moments, his brow furrowed. Then he let out a quiet curse.

"Bloody hell, you're right," he said. "So what're we supposed to do?"

"Be ready fer an attack, o'viously," Barbossa answered immediately.

"Why thank you, Captain Hector Obvious Barbossa," Jack said sarcastically.

"Didn't see ye comin' out with much better than 'What do we do,' so I reminded ye."

"We've got to repair the _Pearl_, get more recruits, hash out a strategy," Jack said, counting on his fingers.

"If we get me a ship t' sail, we'd have a much easier time," Barbossa added pointedly.

"There may not be enough time for that," Jack pointed out.

Elizabeth came out on the porch just then.

"You're both needed inside," she told them, slipping her arm around Jack's.

"Everything all right?" Jack asked immediately.

"Fine," she reassured him. "Tia Dalma just needs a bit of help in there."

"Aha."

Jack gave a quick one-knuckled knock on the door and opened it quietly.

Tia Dalma sat beside the bed with Will's had clasped in hers. A strong smell of herbs and incense hung heavy in the air as she murmured in a low voice.

Will was sitting up in the bed and talking to the voodoo priestess.

Jack grinned madly and threw his arms up.

"The terrific soprano lives!" he exclaimed.

"Jack!" Will said hoarsely. "You came back."

"I did," Jack said delicately. "And has Elizabeth shown you your li'le surprise yet?"

"I'm assuming you meant other than being alive," Will said. "What surprise?"

"Tsk, tsk, Lizzie."

Jack threw open the door and pulled Bootstrap inside the room.

"Surprise!" he grinned as Will sat up straighter.

"Father!"

"William!"

The two hugged while Jack watched from the side, still grinning like an idiot.

"Did you want to talk to Will about…that?" Elizabeth asked softly from his side. Jack looked down at her.

"No. I'm done with it. It's over with. Life moves on, aye?"

Elizabeth smiled and moved over for her own turn to hug Will. Hitching his smile back on, Jack went over to the bed. He was perfectly fine. Wasn't he? Will seemed fine, and Elizabeth was happy. That was all Jack particularly cared about at the moment.

He had completely forgotten about Sao Feng's imminent attack.

A/N: what do you think? Should I put in Sao Feng's attack or leave it to your imaginations? Leave me a review and I'll get my lazy butt in gear either way. Doomedangel: I know the one part completely goes against everything we talked about, but it's sort of a serious story, so I couldn't put it in haha :-)


	18. Jack Asks a Question

A/N: Final chapter is here. Only thing left is an epilogue and then the sequel. Enjoy the battle :)

DISCLAIMER: I decided to put one in this time, what a shock! I don't own them. Unfortunately I never will own them. :(

Chapter 18 

By the next morning, the _Pearl _was at sea again, making preparations for Sao Feng's imminent attack. Barbossa was shouting at anyone who shirked or looked about to do so.

David was lucky, if not smart, and stayed out of his way.

Will was less lucky and was bellowed at for leaving a knot a little too loose, thus allowing a corner of the royal yard to flap completely free. After receiving an extremely loud earful from Barbossa, he was sent to fix it.

One man was practically reduced to tears for not priming one of the muskets properly. ("Do ye want it t' blow up in yer face, ye idiot? Reprime it an' check the rest as well ye scurvy-ridden dog!" "A-aye s-s-sir!") The man reprimed the musket well, but his hands shook so badly that it went off and put a hole in Barbossa's hat. Barbossa was so angry at this that he tore the musket out of the man's hands, reprimed it himself, and might have shot him had Jack not turned up.

"No more wasting powder to blow 'oles in people's hats, savvy?" he told the man, who nodded and promptly dropped the musket.

Jack steered Barbossa away. "Don't _shout _at them. That's" – he pointed at the fresh hole in Barbossa's hat – "what happens."

"That's exactly the attitude what lost ye this ship," Barbossa snarled irritably.

"Now, now, remember our accord."

"Oh, aye."

"Don't worry, mate. You can have Sao Feng's ship after we beat 'im."

"Oh, with tens o' damn holes in it?"

"The _Pearl_'s going to look the same, mate, as is anything else we'd get for you."

Barbossa snorted.

"And ye think Sao Feng's just goin' to give up his ship to ye."

"No," Jack said. "His crew'll give it up when he's dead."

"Exactly my thoughts," Barbossa replied with a smirk.

"Cap'n!"

They both looked up.

"Sail ahead!"

The two opened their spyglasses.

"Sao Feng," Jack muttered. "LOAD THE CANNONS! LOAD 'EM AS IF YOU'RE GETTING PAID FOR IT!" he roared.

The crew scuttled off below deck. To those remaining, Jack yelled, "You dogs get aloft and pour on full canvas! I want all the speed she has and no less! Fire on my signal!"

"Jack, what are you doing? Does our speed really matter?" Will asked.

"S'called battle tactics, whelp," Barbossa cut in. "Get up to the riggin' with ye."

Sao Feng's ship (or the Bloody Asian as Jack liked to call it), now that the _Pearl_ was running at full speed, was growing closer at a much greater rate. Pintel was hoisting the Jolly Roger and one of the crew on the Bloody Asian was running up a red flag.

"They're givin' no quarter, so neither are we! Pintel, run up a red flag instead!" Barbossa ordered. Jack edged away from him.

"What _now_?" Barbossa said.

Jack gave him a sideways look.

"Mind-reader."

Barbossa rolled his eyes.

"They're slowin' down. They expect us to too."

"Ha," Jack said. "That's funny….Here we are…FIRE ALL!"

Cannons on both sides bellowed. The _Pearl _sped right past the Bloody Asian and received a tear in her stern.

"Barbossa, up at the helm! Hard to port!"

Barbossa spun the _Pearl_ completely around with ease.

"FIRE!"

The _Pearl_ fired again and made to pass once more, but the Bloody Asian's crew caught on with grappling hooks and boarded immediately.

Barbossa jammed the wheel in place, grabbed a hook, knocked the man holding it back into the water, and swung over to the Bloody Asian. He was lucky, and none of its crew noticed him slip below deck in search of Sao Feng.

It was much louder near to the cannons. Barbossa peered into the shadows, fingering the hilt of his sword, and moved forward. Unexpectedly, and Asian pirate stepped out, grabbed hold of Barbossa's jacket, and placed a dagger at his neck.

"Sao Feng," Barbossa smiled calmly. "Good t' see ye again."

"Captain Ba'bossa," Sao Feng returned, pressing Barbossa against the wall. "Where is the ring?"

"What ring?"

The knife wandered higher to Barbossa's cheek.

"Shall I carve you a new design?" Sao Feng asked softly.

Barbossa raised an eyebrow.

"What ring are ye talkin' about?"

The knife flicked down to his stomach, its owner's eyes never leaving his face.

"Do you need a bit of…persuasion?" Sao Feng continued dangerously. He traced the point down the buttons of Barbossa's waistcoat so that they clinked menacingly. Barbossa swallowed.

"I'll ask again," he said. "What ring? What does it look like?"

"Plain silver," Sao Feng replied.

Barbossa pretended to rack his brains. "Never heard of it," he lied. "Quite a few plain silver rings out there, eh?"

"Strike one, Captain," Sao Feng growled. He cut a diagonal slash down Barbossa's cheek; Barbossa didn't so much as flinch.

"So tell me," Sao Feng continued as though nothing had happened, "where is this ring?"

"I told ye before I don't know," Barbossa retorted, ignoring the blood pouring onto his shoulder for the most part. "What more do ye want?"

"The truth," Sao Feng hissed, creating an 'x' with a second diagonal line. "Strike two."

"Ah," Barbossa said. "I see. And just what happens when I get t' strike three?"

In answer, Sao Feng made a swift cut and tore Barbossa's waistcoat off until nothing lay between the pirate and the blade save for his thin shirt. Barbossa could practically feel the vulnerability of his own skin increase.

"Outta curiosity, what's yer intended use of this ring?" he asked.

"The ring," Sao Feng said, "does not only lead the dead back to our world."

"And what use do _ye _have in mind?"

"If I told you, I would have to kill you."

Barbossa rolled his eyes.

"Did it cross yer mind that I'm the only one that knows where it is?" he invented wildly. "Sparrow's got no idea. Ye kill me, and ye'll never get it."

"Suppose I have you lead me to it and then I kill you?"

Quick as a flash, Barbossa had his own knife out.

"Suppose I don't lead ye to it and kill ye on the spot."

In a fury, Sao Feng darted forward with his knife. Barbossa deflected it, resulting in Sao Feng making a wild cut across his forehead.

Snarling, Barbossa blinked the blood from his eyes and plunged his dagger into Sao Feng's chest. The Asian pirate let out a howl of anger and quickly shoved his own blade into Barbossa's stomach. Barbossa flew at him with a roar and slit his throat. Sao Feng let out a choked cry and slid to the floor.

Breathing hard, Barbossa stumbled up the stairs, one hand clutching the dagger hilt. "Stupid damned mortality," he whispered to himself, winding his free hand around a rope. "Never particularly liked it."

… … …

Jack was intent on grappling with a man twice his size when he saw Barbossa come swinging back from the Bloody Asian with blood all over. "Sorry, mate, must end our fun here," he told the man, who became so surprised that Jack could quickly dispatch him.

"Oi! Barbossa!" he shouted. "What the bloody hell _happened_?"

Barbossa waved him off and struggled to his feet.

"Nothin', nothin', just a few scratches," he said hoarsely.

"You've a knife in your stomach, in case you hadn't noticed," Jack pointed out. "I hardly think that counts as 'nothing.'"

"I can take care of meself, Jack. Go."

He gave Barbossa a soft growl and made sure he made it to his cabin before going back out into the fight.

… … …

The worst injuries Elizabeth had sustained were a small cut on her cheek and her bullet wound starting to leak blood again. She did not quite mind it, though; it made her fearless and allowed her to go full out on the Asian pirates. The next she knew, however, Jack had danced up through the throng and run her latest opponent through.

"What's going on?" she yelled.

"Barbossa's been injured, badly!" Jack replied.

"I think this is almost done with," Elizabeth said. "They seem to be figuring out that Sao Feng is dead."

"'E is? Good for him."

Jack pushed someone into Gibbs's outstretched sword.

"Now, what did you say about Barbossa?" Elizabeth asked.

… … …

In the cabin, Barbossa, the knife still protruding from his shirt so that he wouldn't bleed to death, was searching for bandages. He clutched the hilt still, his breath coming raggedly.

Dirty cloth in hand, he sat on the bed and made a quick job of pulling the knife out. Blood poured from the wound and onto the floor. Barbossa stuffed a balled up piece of cloth in and tied a dirtier one around it. Then he stood and tested the whole contraption.

"Damn it," he muttered, stalking back out on deck.

In anger at his own incompetence, Barbossa pulled out his cutlass and decapitated one of the Asian pirates. He didn't feel any better, in fact he felt worse, but it did wonders for his mood. _I should do this more often, _he thought. He then proceeded to rampage through the crowd, killing or maiming any who fought back.

Barbossa let out a long, hard, and painful laugh that nearly cost him his life.

… … …

Nearly an hour later, Jack stood back and surveyed the mess. Bodies and blood were strewn over the _Pearl_'s decks in complete disarray.

"I love no quarter," Barbossa put in from his position at the rail.

"I don't," Jack said bluntly. "We could have more men to crew the Bloody Asian, but no."

"We've got…more'n enough…t' crew – aah – both," Barbossa pointed out. "Th' most…mph…th' _Pearl_ needs…is ten."

"Right, right," Jack said distractedly. "So we each get fifteen, I've got about thirty here….Barbossa, mate, you need some help for that." He gestured at the leaking, filthy bandage.

"It be…fine," Barbossa managed. "I've…had worse."

"Yes, idiot, you died from it in, say, ten seconds," Jack said. "Go lay down or something."

Barbossa raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, fine. Who's your first mate?" Jack asked exasperatedly. Barbossa thought for a moment.

"Grimer."

"Right, pick nine more."

He picked nine men from those on deck.

"Good. Will!" Jack said. He told the younger man the ten names to go on the Bloody Asian.

"Get them over there to clean up and get 'er running. The captain will stay here for a while."

"_Ye _will not be givin' me orders," Barbossa growled.

"_You _can barely move," Jack said, "and will therefore be taking orders from the one that has said capability."

"Arr, I can move fine," Barbossa said, nearly falling over.

"Mhm, well, let's move you to a cabin so we can clean out that…mess."

Jack took hold of one of Barbossa's arms and pulled it over his shoulder. Elizabeth, unseen by the men until this time, did the same with the other arm. Finally, Barbossa relented and leaned heavily on the two of them as they led him to a cabin.

"Jack – _ah _– I don't care if it's – _mm _– the one I normally stay in, just – _ff _– get me in a bloody – _damn _– cabin," he managed. "It hurts…more'n it looks."

Jack glanced down at the bloody bandages. "It does?" he asked nervously.

Elizabeth ran for supplies while he sat Barbossa on the bed.

Half an hour later, the gash was about as clean as it would get and Barbossa was asleep.

"He does have a high tolerance for pain, doesn't he?" Elizabeth said, watching him.

"One does tend to have a high tolerance for pain when one gets shot and complains about feeling cold instead of being in pain," Jack said.

Elizabeth smiled, then frowned.

"Do you think he'll pull through?"

"Oh, yeah," Jack said. "He's been worse. Trust me."

The two walked out of the cabin and up to the deck, now completely empty.

"You know, Elizabeth, I've been thinking," Jack said suddenly.

Elizabeth smiled. "We've had a breakthrough," she teased. "What about?"

"You and I, I and you, us," he replied. "You know."

"Yes."

"I asked Bootstrap about…what I'm thinking, and he thought I should…go ahead," he said, fiddling with a coat pocket. After a short pause, he drew something out. Elizabeth pressed a palm over her mouth, and Jack grinned at her.

"Lizzie, will you marry me?" he asked, the grin still plastered on his face.

Nodding, Elizabeth grabbed him up in a hug.

"So where do you want to have it, luv?" Jack said.

"Let's do it right here on the _Pearl_," Elizabeth suggested, and looked at him. "Jack, what's a pirate wedding like?"

"It's basically a shortened version of an actual wedding with less vowing and less crying." He paused. "Although I once had Gibbs crying when someone else got married."

They laughed. Elizabeth fit herself comfortably in the crook of Jack's arm, and they stood there for a long time. Barbossa's crew worked into the night on the newly named _Gilded Sunset_. The orange sun shone through the sails, turning them the color of parchment. When it set, the moon frosted them with silver. Jack and Elizabeth stood and watched as though they were the only two people in the world.

A/N: Surprise!! Haha :) couldn't resist mate. I'm typing the epilogue today (and you can probably guess what it's about) and will put it up either today or tomorrow, depending on reviews. They inspire me to type and write faster. After this the sequel will probably be up after I finish my PotC: AWE story, because it is completely crazy keeping up with two stories while helping to move my grandparents. See the sexy purple button?? _**Click it. Do it. Now.**_ Please:)


	19. Epilogue: A Wedding

A/N: A wedding! I love weddings! Drinks all around:) enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: I own David, does that count?

Epilogue (1 month later) 

Jack crossed his arms at his own reflection. It had been years since he had worn anything other than his pirating clothes, and only now did he realize how stiff and uncomfortable suits were. _You're only doing it for a few hours, _he thought, attempting to console himself. _Elizabeth'll be happy._

With this last silent statement, the cabin door opened to reveal Barbossa. "Jack," he said. "Ye look…" He smiled. "Like a fool."

The two cuts on his face had healed for the most part and now blended in with the rest of his scars. However, he still had a bandage wrapped around his middle.

Jack sighed.

"Thank you for being the fine friend you are. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Hmm…not get married?" Barbossa said innocently. "Speakin' of which, get yer sorry suited self out here. "We're about t' start."

… … …

Elizabeth had managed to scrounge up a clip from her trunk and was attempting to twist her hair up in a way so that it looked at least halfway decent. Finally, she settled with the top part up and the rest spread about her neck.

There had been a nice white dress stowed on the _Gilded Sunset_, which she had commandeered for the day. The sleeves molded to her arms and flowed into long cuffs at the wrists. At her hips, the skirt swirled to the ground like a satin waterfall. No ornamentations, nothing very fancy; merely a simple but beautiful dress.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Elizabeth called.

The door opened, and Will poked his head in. "It's time," he said.

Elizabeth stood up quickly, fingers fluttering frantically around hair and dress. Smiling, Will took her arm. "You look fine," he reassured her. "Come on. Jack's waiting."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and allowed Will to lead her out.

Indeed, Jack was already waiting, along with Barbossa and both of their crews. Barbossa had not changed out of his pirate attire. Jack, however, was wearing a suit and looking as though he despised every second of it. Bootstrap was standing next to him as best man, and Anamaria was waiting for Elizabeth as her bridesmaid.

When Elizabeth appeared, Barbossa had to nudge Jack and tell him to pick his jaw up off the deck. Elizabeth smiled mischievously as she stood in front of him.

"Elizabeth, you look beautiful," Jack murmured.

Before Elizabeth could reply, Barbossa began to speak.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here t'day to unite these two by makin' a couple of promises and kissin', which I'm sure they've _ne'er _done before."

The crews laughed.

"Right," Barbossa continued. "Elizabeth Swann, do ye take Jack Sparrow t' be yer husband, through sickness 'n' health, through addled brains 'n' such, blah, blah, blah?"

Elizabeth bit back a laugh at Jack's expression.

"I do."

"Good, because we all wondered," Barbossa said sarcastically. "Jack Sparrow, do ye take Elizabeth Swann t' be yer wife, in sickness 'n' health, through extremely large fights or petty squabbles, blah, blah, blah?"

"I do," Jack grinned.

"Great," Barbossa said in a bored voice. "Now kiss an' get it over with."

Jack and Elizabeth happily obliged.

… … …

As different as the wedding had been, the reception was, if possible, even more different. The pirates were even louder and more raucous than usual. Instead of a cake, there was a tower of rum bottles on a table, and three barrels of it nearby. Everyone basically grabbed a bottle of rum and ran amok on the deck and in the rigging. Even David managed to smuggle a bottle.

A recently plundered ship had provided them with a musician, who was playing on his accordion. All the pirates were dancing drunkenly within an hour. Will, Jack, Barbossa, and Bootstrap all took turns spinning Elizabeth and Anamaria around while they laughed in delight. Jack and Elizabeth had changed back into their pirate attire straight after the wedding for the sake of comfort.

The reception was one of the most wild and fun parties Elizabeth had ever been to. She recalled Jack's words about weddings a while back and thought they definitely applied here.

'A wedding! I love weddings! Drinks all around!' 

Smiling, she helped herself to a bottle of rum and watched one of the pirates hanging from the rigging by one foot. The man tried to take a drink and slopped it all over his face. Elizabeth laughed as Jack came over and slung and arm around her shoulders.

"Whadda waste ofrum," he slurred. "That should be pun, punishable by law."

She laughed harder and took a swig of rum.

"Don' be shy, drinks all 'round!" Jack roared at Will, who was standing on the side looking afraid. Jack tossed him a bottle and disappeared into the crowd of drunken pirates. Elizabeth followed.

"Where to next?" she murmured when they were alone at the railing.

"Not t' worry, luv," Jack said, swaying. "We've got all th' time 'n th' wo'ld."

Just then, Barbossa raised his bottle of rum and roared a toast to Jack and Elizabeth. The two crews bellowed happily and drank. Jack and Elizabeth cheered and joined in the toast.

A/N: so what'd you think? Good, bad, worse? Leave me a review! Thanks to everyone who read, you've been great. Even more thanks to those who reviewed. You guys made me so happy! Thank you very much!


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